


The Great Escape

by Mercutio



Series: Snipers Do It From A Distance; Assassins Do It From Behind [6]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Magical Healing Vagina, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Sexual Content, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:40:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 25,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14166048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercutio/pseuds/Mercutio
Summary: Believed to have powers and taken captive by SHIELD, Darcy faces life as a science experiment.  Fortunately Tony hates people taking his stuff.How responsible are the Avengers for Darcy being put there?  Will Darcy forgive them?  Will they forgive themselves?  And just what does SHIELD want with a non-mutant without confirmed powers?





	1. Gearing Up

"Everyone got the comms in?" Tony asked. "I've got spares if you need them. Bruce, you okay with me carrying your spare or you want someone else to hold one for you, too?"

"That's fine," Bruce told him even as Barnes held out his hand for one.

Tony passed a unit over. "Okay then. We clear on the plan?"

"What plan?" Clint asked. "'Attack' isn't a plan."

The Iron Man armor waved an arm. "Close enough. We go, we either get permission to land or we don't, we land, then we negotiate. Whether that negotiation involves explosions is up to them. Hopefully by then I'll also be into their system."

"Again, not an actual plan. More like guidelines."

"And you have a problem with that, Cupid? I thought that was your kind of thing."

Clint fingered his bow. "Just wondering how you're planning to deal with the inevitable fall-out. SHIELD's not going to take this lying down. Getting onboard is the easy part. Getting away with it -- that'll be harder."

"SHIELD does it all the time. Comes in, uses threats and force to try to get what they want and then expects me to let bygones be bygones. Let's see how they like it when I do it to them."

"Stark…" Clint warned.

"Relax. I've got Pepper on that. She plays politics better than I do. Stark Industries has more leverage over SHIELD than you might think. Not good enough to avoid this altogether obviously, but if we had a little more time…" Tony trailed off and waved at Barnes. "But we don't. So, my plan. Any further smart remarks disguised as suggestions?"

Bamf.

The men assembled on the roof of the Avengers Tower reacted quickly when a red and black clad figure teleported into their midst.

Hawkeye had an arrow on string, Tony a repulsor gleaming brightly and Thor raised his hammer. Bruce didn't move. Barnes, on the other hand, put a bullet through the stranger's head.

"Nice reflexes, Frosty," Tony complimented him. "He's probably here to help, but nice reflexes. Waste of a bullet though. If that's who I think it is, he'll be up and about again shortly."

"I've got plenty," Barnes growled, but holstered his weapon.

"He came," Clint said, relaxing. "Wasn't sure he would."

"Of course he came. He's crazy over Shortstack. And crazy." Tony prodded Deadpool's body with one metal foot. "Might want to load him into the Quinjet though. Looks like it'll take a while for him to regenerate and we want to get moving before SHIELD catches on."

"Not it!" Clint called and high-tailed it to the jet.

Barnes rolled his eyes and, bending over, grabbed an arm, slinging Deadpool over his shoulder.

"You going with them, Big Guy, or you wanna be dropped off along the way?" Tony asked Bruce. "Because Big Green making an aerial assault on the helicarrier would be *awesome*. I even have theme music picked out."

Bruce rubbed his forehead. "I'll go with them. They might need backup. I assume you and Thor will be providing your own transport?"

"Yep!" Tony said, then looked at Thor.

Thor looked sheepish. "As I am unfamiliar with the location, it would be best for me to travel with those who know the way."

"Oh, come on!" Tony protested. "Now you have to come with me, Brucie. You don't want to leave me out there all alone, do you?"

"I don't know," Bruce replied. He gave Tony a little smile as he turned toward the jet. "I hear you like to make an entrance. Wouldn't want to steal your show."

"That hurts," Tony said and snapped the face plate down. "Last one there's a rotten egg!" He launched himself into midair.

Thor caught up with Bruce rapidly. "Should we not make haste? Rotting eggs are unpleasant. I am unhappily familiar with them."

"It's a saying, Thor," Bruce explained. "Tony wouldn't--" He broke off, reconsidering what he'd been about to say. "I'm guessing that this is because of something Loki did to you?"

"Aye."

"What did you do in response to that?"

"After I caught him? I held him upside down over the side of the Bifrost until he swore never to do such a thing again."

Quiet descended as they entered the jet and took seats, Clint already in the process of completing the checklist for take-off.

"Try that," Bruce suggested.

"Odin will not easily allow a mortal to access Asgard--"

"No, not the Bifrost. Use the tower."

Thor's expression cleared. "Ah. I understand. I will endeavor not to drop him as I did Loki."

Bruce stared at him. "You… dropped Loki?"

"Only twice." Thor looked pained. "I assure you, it was not done purposefully."

"Yes, because that makes it better."

For some reason, Thor seemed cheered by that observation.

The Quinjet took off. None of the men spoke, although Tony's running commentary on his hacking could be heard over their comms.

Several minutes later, Deadpool regained consciousness.

"Ooh, that wasn't nice. I'm here to help, you know. You're supposed to shoot the bad guys, not me. Although I can certainly understand why you made that mistake." He sat up from where he'd been dumped on the floor. "Hello, nurse!" he called out to Thor before turning his attention to Barnes. "That's some Impressive weaponry there you've got there, stud. And the guns are nice, too."

Barnes trained one at Deadpool's forehead. "Think I can get a bullet through the same hole," he suggested conversationally.

"Well, that escalated quickly," Wade said, clapping his hands and springing up to a standing position. The Quinjet banked then, sending Wade crashing into Thor's lap.

Thor caught him automatically. "Perhaps you should seat yourself?"

"No can do, handsome. That would cut into my quality time with you. Plus we have to decide who gets stuck with Tweety Bird. I mean, I know I don't need any backup and you don't and he doesn't and he doesn't," he said, pointing at each man in turn, "but Hotass does and losing an Avenger would be bad for my reputation. All the other mercenaries would make fun of me."

"I got him," Barnes said gruffly.

"Good!"

"Hey!" Clint yelled back from the cockpit. "I can take care of myself!"

"Sure you can, punk," Barnes rumbled in disagreement.

Thor dropped Deadpool onto one of the free seats. "I also will guard my comrades."

That earned him a pained smile from Bruce. "Well, I know I won't be."

"That's why you're the distraction, doc!" Clint shouted cheerfully. "Coming up on the helicarrier now! Anyone wanna jump before I put this thing down?"

Bruce stood up. "Can you hold us steady?"

"Yeah, no," Clint said, jinking the jet and causing Bruce to topple back into his seat. "They're shooting at us. Don't seem too happy with us for some reason."

"Allow me," Thor said, standing. Unlike Bruce, he held steady despite the violent movements of their vehicle, one hand anchoring him to the ceiling.

As soon as Clint had the hatch open, Thor dove out, twirling Mjolnir as he went.

"Doc, this is going to get dicey. You might want to jump as soon as you have line of sight."

Bruce smiled grimly. "I'm not worried. Even if they shoot us down, I'll be fine."

"Was more thinking about getting to Darcy."

Bruce didn't reply, but he focused his attention on the view out the hatch, readying himself to leap out.

"Are we there yet? Do you think I can see my apartment from here?" Deadpool asked, standing up to peer through the front of the cockpit. A few maneuvers later sent him flying across the compartment and almost out the back. However, he managed to catch hold before tumbling out.

"I *can* see my apartment from here. Oh, wait. My apartment doesn't have a landing strip. I think we're here." With that, Wade let go and allowed himself to fall out the rear of the jet with a whoop of excitement.

Bruce sighed. "I better go after him." He stripped off his shirt, tying the sleeves around the seat restraints in the vain hope of saving some of his clothing before heading to the rear of the plane.

Five seconds after Bruce left, Clint set the quinjet down. "Impatient much?" he muttered.

"You gonna keep yakking all day?" Barnes asked, already at the open hatch and laying down cover fire.

"Yeah, yeah," Clint said, grabbing his bow. "Everyone's a critic."


	2. Project Valkyrie

**PROJECT VALKYRIE**

**Project Goal:** Create assets who can rejuvenate selected individuals, enhancing their capabilities and providing healing.

 **Project Background:** From the Norse mythological figure, a female who chose which warriors lived and which died.

 **Project History:** Project based on history of the X-Ranch, in particular Miranda Leevald (codename: Stacy X) and her daughter, Darcy Lewis. Other subjects to be added as identified.

The X-Ranch, run by Madame Drache, operated as a mutant brothel before being attacked by the Church of Humanity. The female mutants possessed powers described as 'providing ultimate pleasure' to their customers. The operation became of interest after Miranda Leevald took on the codename Stacy X and joined the X-Men. Leevald's powers were pheromone based including healing, increase of stamina, receptive empathy as well as other physical sensations. Leevald repeatedly demonstrated attraction to male members of the fighting forces she joined. Leevald lost these powers during M-Day before her death. (See file for further details.) Other members of the X-Ranch are still under investigation.

Lewis is the natural born child of Leevald and Eric Gitter (codename: Ink). Gitter (deceased) possessed tattoos of power symbols enabling him to wield powers including healing. (See file for full details.) Investigation required to determine what influence, if any, these played; however, Lewis has to date demonstrated none of Gitter's powers.

 **Subject Background:** Lewis first came to attention during the Puente Antiguo incident with Thor Odinson. Lewis, then an intern with Dr. Jane Foster, followed Foster through the London incident also involving Odinson to the Avengers Tower. Lewis' past first came to light in AAR 51-WEL-D by Steve Rogers (codename: Captain America). Independent confirmation by Wade Wilson (codename: Deadpool). Investigation revealed that Lewis does not possess the mutant gene, but does have mutant ancestry. Terrigenesis may activate the latent potential as it has proven effective in the past with mutants depowered due to M-Day.

 **Subject History:**  
 _Childhood:_ Lewis raised by grandparents until age 3, then by foster family until age 18. Foster family (Howard and DeAnn Washburn) had two natural children and fostered five children, beginning with Lewis. At the time Lewis left the household, one foster child remained. Washburn subsequently charged with child abuse in the case of the remaining child; foster status revoked.

 _Education:_ B.A., Political Science (minor: Psychology). Currently enrolled at Columbia as a non-degree student; awaiting approval for entering graduate program.

 _Relationships:_ Felix Washburn, Darren Gould, Jack Harris, Ian Boothby, Rogers, Clint Barton, James Barnes, Wilson. All individuals are male. With the exception of Washburn and Boothby, all individuals possess military experience. Boothby saw combat in the London incident. Washburn (see interview) diagnosed with PTSD regarding childhood experiences. Lewis known to have had sexual activity with Washburn, Boothby and Rogers. Extent of contact with Gould, Harris, Barton and Wilson unknown; may be limited to osculation and physical contact. No sexual involvement with Barnes.

 _Background Information:_ Lewis demonstrated nurturing skills during internship with Foster. Foster is Lewis' only known female relationship of significance. Relationship limited to basic caretaking and data entry. Despite working with Eric Selvig, did not begin care of Selvig until after Selvig involved in Tesseract incident with Loki. Upon Foster's move to Avengers Tower, Lewis changed employment to Stark Industries, assuming care for Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Lewis initated contact with the male members of the tower, making meals for Barnes and Barton, engaging in intimate verbal interaction with Stark and Banner and physical contact with Odinson before beginning a sexual relationship with Rogers. Sexual relationship terminated, reportedly for lack of reciprocation of emotion by Rogers. Subject did not initiate contact with Virginia Potts or Natasha Romanoff, the other residents of the tower. After end of their relationship, Rogers accused Lewis of manipulating himself and the male members of the team to cause conflict. Rogers subsequently sent away. Incident resulted in relationship between subject and Barnes, Barton and Wilson. 

**Power Manifestation (speculated):**  
 _Healing abilities:_ Foster's research considered unimportant until Lewis' involvement; Foster now foremost expert on wormhole physics. Prior to Lewis' arrival, Foster anorexic and suffering from immune system problems and severe muscle tension. At present time, Foster in excellent health. Similar results with Stark and Banner; timeframe too short to confirm significance. Barnes increased public interaction and expanded social contact. Barton demonstrated decrease in social avoidance as well as complete healing of minor injury after osculation with Lewis. Selvig exhibited insanity after Tesseract incident; following exposure to Lewis, returned to prior occupation.

 _Receptive empathy:_ Lewis displayed insight into various individuals' motivations and feelings on multiple occasions. Observations unchallenged by persons in question. Lewis able to impregnate previously resistant groups / personalities without suspicion (with the exception of Rogers and Romanoff; see Power Conjecture).

 **Power Conjecture (Avenues for Further Research):** Subject's powers appear to be limited to certain individuals, primarily males with combat experience. Powers may be specific to those with mental or physical damage (re: Selvig, Rogers and Romanoff). A bond may be necessary for these powers to take effect (re: Rogers' rejection of Lewis' emotions) and this bond may only form with those with physical or mental damage. Subject may possess ability to manipulate others. Healing abilities may improve based on pheromones, physical attraction, emotional bond or sexual intercourse; further research needed.

 **Conclusions:** Investigation needed to determine extent of subject's abilities. Subject ideal for project. Recommend immediate action; if bonding theory correct, response needed before subject fully entrenched with Avengers Initiative.


	3. Wave The Bloody Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter would have gone very differently if I had not tripped on my way home from dinner on Monday night. I now have a broken nose, but am otherwise in good health if a bit tired. As it is, all will be left short and mysterious.

On her way out of Fury's office, Darcy tripped.

That was the story she knew the jack booted thugs were going to try to sell anyway. Yeah, she didn't have her glasses with her so she couldn't see as well as she normally could -- what was the point of bringing them when they were just going to be confiscated? But those were reading glasses.

Not glasses would help when there were no obstacles.

Darcy'd felt a knee poke. She'd been tripped on purpose.

That didn't stop her from face planting, nose first, into the floor. Darcy saw it happening in slow motion. First the hitch in her step -- caused by the bald bespectacled bastard -- then the automatic attempt to correct for it, then the falling and the hitting. Her hands didn't make it all the way up in time and she went down nose first, feeling flesh give in a sickening way and then all she noticed was pain and a wet gush flowing uncontrollably from her nose. She realized that she was laying on her folded hands, the nails of the left hand driven through the skin on the heel of the other.

"Are you all right?" asked a suspiciously solicitous Sitwell.

"No." Darcy was firm about that. She was not all right, damn it. She was bleeding and she didn't even want to think about everything that hurt. She definitely didn't want to think about how she was going to get up. Her attention caught on the red blotches she could see forming on the ground. Her head fuzzed out and she knew no more.


	4. The Last Action Hero

"I have a plan, you guys. Thor, with me. Deadpool, try not to kill anyone. Hawkeye, Frosty, you get the girl. We'll play distraction."

Tony swooped down to hover behind Thor as soon as Thor appeared.

"Thor, I need you to find Fury. Work the diplomatic angle. Darcy is your lightning-sister, right? Do the whole Asgard-is-disappoint thing."

Thor gave Tony a confused look, but nodded. "Aye, I can do that."

"Good man." Tony covered Thor's back while Thor cheerfully made his way through the throng of agents protecting the doors.

"Excuse me," Thor said, picking one man up and moving him to the side. "Pardon me," he said to another.

A rifle stock was shoved into his stomach. "Stop right there."

"Hello." Thor smiled at the man holding the rifle. "I would like to speak to Director Fury. Would you escort me to him?"

"You are not allowed to access SHIELD property or personnel. If you persist, I will be forced to shoot."

Thor could hear chatter through the comm as Iron Man gave directions to the rest of their team, but paid little attention as they were not his concern at the current time. It was enough for now to know that a plan was in place. Should that plan fail, then Thor would act accordingly. The Midgardians seemed to forget that he had commanded forces in the field; they expected him to defer to the leadership of others in a way Thor found amusing to allow.

"Little late for that," Tony smarted off to the man with the rifle. "Your buddies have already started." A bullet pinged off of his armor from behind.

"Not helping," Thor sang, still smiling at the man in front of him. "Now you can try to shoot at me if you like, but it will not penetrate my armor. And I can hit you with my hammer before you raise your barrel. Or you could fetch the man of Fury."

"And you'll back off?" the man asked skeptically.

"Aye," Thor said.

"And them?"

Thor looked innocent. "The Man of Iron will stand down as well. I cannot speak for Hulk."

"And the others?"

Thor pretended to look around. "I see no others."

The man in front of him prodded him with the rifle. It had no more effect than it had previously. "The others. You brought others with you. There were more of you."

Spreading his hands, Thor asked, "Perhaps then we should gather the director so that we may call an end to this fighting and retrieve our missing people?"

The man glared, then nodded and stepped backward, barking a command at the other defenders around the entrance. They relaxed their weapons, but stayed on guard, even as their leader nodded at Thor. "I've informed my superiors. Stand down."

Tony landed next to Thor. "Aw. Total buzz kill. I was hoping for something a little more violent."

Behind them, Hulk grabbed a fighter jet by the nose and slammed it to the deck, shaking the helicarrier.

"Sometimes the diplomatic approach works," Thor told him.

"Don't give me that. You were looking forward to smashing some heads together, too, Point Break."

"We can do that after the diplomacy as well, can't we?"

Tony grinned at him. Of the other three men, no sign could be seen. Aside from a trail of bodies. But anyone could have left those there.

****

While Thor and Tony pursued the non-violent option and Hulk provided a distraction, the other three proceeded via a different route.

However, referring to them as a trio was a misnomer. Through oversight or direct omission, Deadpool had never been given a comm. Instead Wade ignored all of them in favor of cutting his own way inside the helicarrier. As a rule, Wade eschewed taking direction, preferring to improvise, but under the current circumstances, he had no other option. Just the way he liked it.

The trail of bodies he left behind him would have been both impressive and a sign as to which way he'd gone, but given that the Hulk was also in play, they merely provided ambiance.

While James and Clint made use of the opening, the red and black suited maniac didn't wait for them to catch up. By the time Clint got into position, Wade was long gone.

"You know where to go, Hawkeye?" Tony asked him over the comm.

"Don't know," Clint told him with barely restrained sarcasm. "You haven't given me any hints."

James stared at him. Clint rolled his eyes and gestured in the correct direction, which deviated from the path Deadpool had taken. Prisoner containment was their best bet, at least until Stark managed to hack SHIELD and find out exactly where Darcy was being held.

"Aww, it's almost like you need me."

"Going silent, Iron Man."

Clint disabled the outgoing function of the communicator before glancing at James. "On site intel or X marks the spot?"

James took an agent out with a bullet through a kneecap. "Intel."

Clint nodded. SHIELD had no rank insignia as such. As a member of the agency, Clint knew the most identities and who would be more likely to have valuable information. On the surface, at least. He took it as a given that James possessed more than a passing familiarity with the identity of many of SHIELD's personnel.

Not that either of them had any difficulty identifying those they'd faced so far as lower level shock troops and greenies too new to realize that their use rested not on the damage that they might do but on the amount of any attackers' ammunition and time they could soak up.

They needed a suit, someone who might -- *might* -- know what was going on. Frankly Clint expected them to fail. He knew SHIELD; it hid information from itself. They were unlikely to find anyone who had even heard of SHIELD's interest in Darcy, let alone where she might be held. Less unlikely, they could *persuade* someone to let them into SHIELD's computer systems. That however presupposed that the information they needed had been entrusted to computers at all. Or, even if it had been, that it was not heavily encoded. Should they get such access, they'd be better off letting Stark run down that lead.

That didn't make live intel worthless -- the more they knew, the better.

It still didn't fool Clint into thinking that he was coming out of this whole.

He'd done the math while pre-flighting the quinjet. He'd been effectively burned by SHIELD. They hadn't sent anyone to kill him yet, so they still had a use for him, but he'd been left out of this for a reason. He hadn't needed Jarvis to replay Fury's conversation with Stark to tell him that. Setting out on this venture sealed his fate with them. Let others bemoan the inhumanity of what had been done to turn James into the Winter Soldier. Even before the mess with Loki, Clint had been fully aware of the measures SHIELD would go to in order to ensure the reliability of their operatives. After all, it wasn't torture if you'd signed up for it, now was it?

Their plan -- or rather lack of one -- didn't fill him with confidence either. He'd gone into missions with less, but never out of choice.

So be it. When this went to hell, Clint would embrace his damnation gladly. He deserved it.

The reasons he deserved it were innumerable. They started in childhood. Lessons learned early on; his existence was a liability, his well-being an inconvenience. Those lessons then honed by the circus. He was only useful as long as he was remarkable, only valued for his use. He'd been further burned by relationships; his mentor and his brother leaving him for dead when he refused to join in their criminal activities. The charade around Coulson's supposed death; the tearing guilt from knowing himself responsible and the lack of an apology when it turned out to be false. His long string of one night stands after it became clear to him that he couldn't sustain a relationship. His failure with Darcy; the report he'd turned into SHIELD that began all this. Natasha -- his longtime friend and partner -- whisking Darcy off without so much as a word. SHIELD, Coulson and Natasha -- the foundations he staked his sanity on -- pulled out from under him.

Clint understood it intellectually. Things happened.

Didn't help his heart. Didn't stop the part of him that told him he deserved it. The part of him that welcomed self-destruction because at least in self-immolation, there would be, if not expiation for his sins, at least oblivion.

It was a mindset he embraced every time he took on the role of Hawkeye. One that got harder to shake off each time he wore it.

And so he was utterly calm as he singled out a man he'd been peripherally involved with on missions. Pointed him out to James. Didn't make a sound while James did his thing -- it only made sense; the Winter Soldier being much scarier than a fellow SHIELD agent.

Didn't look back at the collapsed form they left behind. Didn't think about the potential of death from blood loss, only about moving fast enough to make use of the intelligence they'd gained before someone caught on.

And keeping up with James. Because the Winter Soldier might normally be a scary motherfucker, but now he was *motivated*.


	5. The best part of waking up

Darcy woke in a cell.

Consciousness returned with the kind of abruptness she associated with bad hangovers and iffy Chinese food. She'd been dreaming something about fish or being a fish and then she was lying on something that felt like a brick, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one, and experiencing an absence of feeling in her face that told her that the pain would only be that much worse once her state of consciousness allowed her to process it properly.

She wished she could go back to sleep.

Instead, she managed to roll to the side and vomit. On the floor, yay. Bonus points for not vomiting on herself or the furniture.

Groggily Darcy blinked her eyes open again, taking in her surroundings. Gray walls, gray floor, gray door, gray cement thingy she currently rested on, gray toilet. Monochromatic color scheme, check. Complete lack of creature comforts, check. Yeah. Cell.

Then the pain hit.

She didn't make a sound. It wasn't that kind of pain. This was the all at once, falling down the stairs type of pain where it hurt so bad so suddenly that you couldn't process it and just had to lie there and take it until your brain could wrap itself around just exactly how fucking much your body hurt.

Darcy let her head return to the surface she'd had it pillowed on earlier, despite the lack of cushioning. Being still was better.

Would have been better, she told herself, as her throat fought to contain the rush of nausea brought on by moving. If it hadn't involved needing to change the position of her head. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Resolving to stay where she was, Darcy took inventory of her injuries. As much as she could without shifting.

Face? Broken. One semi-solid blur of pain down the middle from her eyebrows to the bottom of her chin.

Knee? Dinged. Scraped, probably. It hurt, but distantly.

Hands? About the same. The right ached more than the left, but she didn't want to risk puking just to see how bad off either was when both felt minor in comparison to her poor face.

Oh, Thor. Her *face*.

Breathing slow and evenly, Darcy licked her lips. They hurt. Both felt swollen, like she had two huge canker sores right in their center. Her front two teeth hurt as did the ridge of skin between her nose and her mouth. Her chin… not so much now. It was receding into the same road rash sensation she was getting from her knee.

Her nose…

She kept breathing.

Goddamn those shit eating mother fuckers, she thought. What the hell right did they have to do this to her? Frag that. They thought they had every right. That was the nature of power. No one needed to tell Darcy that. Despite persistent rumors, she had not needed to sleep with anyone to get her degree. She understood the corruption of power, the necessity for checks and balances and the realpolitik involved in resolving the two in the interests of the public.

No, what really pissed her off about this was the charade of choice.

Darcy understood why having powers made her a threat. She understood why no one wanted someone fucking with the Avengers. She even understood why SHIELD might get grabby hands about enlisting someone who had the capability to fuck with the Avengers. And why those grabby hands might involve force.

But to present it to her as a choice?

The sheer thoughtless cruelty of it distracted her from her physical pain.

Start with sending an assassin to take in a college student. Talk about overkill. No, go further back. Give the hapless civilian a night to think she's normal and that the team might accept her even if she did turn out to have powers. *Then* take her in. Pretend that she has a choice about being an agent versus a test subject. Give her time to think about her options and dread them. *Then* trip her and break her nose. Just for the lolz.

Darcy didn't know what the point of it all was -- man's inhumanity to man, probably. It didn't matter. They'd convinced her. The last thing she would ever do now would be to cooperate with them. They could put her up against Loki and tell her to use her powers -- whatever they supposedly were -- on him or the Earth would be destroyed, and she'd shrug and say, "Eh, never really liked the place."

Okay, maybe not. But the general principle stood. SHIELD had burned its last bridge. Darcy no longer cared whether she got her iPod back or not.

The nausea had not returned. Gingerly, Darcy reached up and ghosted her fingers over her face without actually making contact.

It was a good plan.

Until her hand caught in her loose hair which drying blood had superglued to her skinned nose and it pulled away with a painful, tearing rip.

"Ouch! Holy fuck! Shitballs!"

Yeah, that was more like it. Normal, every day pain. Not clobbered in the face pain. She was just going to lie here for a bit longer before making her daring escape.

The unwanted breeze brought itself back to her attention.

Oh, yeah. Her great escape in the whatever it was garment they'd dressed her in. Hospital gown going by the ventilation. Darcy tried not to take in the quality of the fabric when she returned her hand to her side, but unfortunately, she couldn't lie to herself all that effectively. Paper. They'd dressed her in a paper gown. Without any socks or panties.

Bastards.

Okay, that pretty much put the kibosh on any escape plans, not that she'd ever really thought she could pull one off. The thought of rescue flickered through her head and she licked her lips thoughtfully before regretting it. Metallic tang and more pain.

Jane would never give up on her. That much Darcy knew for certain. The tiny astrophysicist hadn't given up on Thor despite a truly the awe-inspiring distance in their long distance romance, never mind that she'd only known him for less than a week. Darcy's friendship with Jane was of longer standing, if less passionate. Jane wouldn't forget or be put off.

And where Jane went, Thor was sure to follow.

How much influence either could wield over SHIELD, Darcy had no idea. SHIELD had efficiently taken all of Jane's equipment and research without so much as a by your leave, so not so much, but they'd also turned Loki and the tesseract over to Asgard, so some. Darcy wasn't as valuable as any of those things, she didn't think.

Therefore some small bit of hope existed.

No matter how bad things became, Darcy would not be forgotten.

But that provided little comfort when she huddled by herself in the cold room that stank of vomit and hummed endlessly with the sound of the helicarrier's engine.

Thoughts she'd been avoiding crept out from behind her defenses. About Clint and kisses. About promises and closeness and the look in James' eyes. Things that had seemed real enough at the time but only tortured her now. What did they think? Would they even want her to be saved? Darcy wanted to believe, but she remembered Clint's failure to meet her eyes after he'd learned that she had powers. Recalled James' unmoving form on her couch as Natasha escorted her past. Who was she to them really?

Slowly her eyes began to drip with tears.

Stinging began immediately thereafter, as the headache she'd barely noticed flared into a full on sinus explosion. "Ow. Fucking hell. Fucking fuckers fucking fuckity fuck!"

No crying. Crying bad.

No moving. Puking bad.

What other option did she have? The Borg had her; resistance was futile. But Darcy wasn't the kind of person who gave into despair. Not even in her current circumstances.

Quietly, so as not to further aggravate her injuries, Darcy began to sing.

"John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt, that's my name too…"


	6. Negotiations and other inconveniences

Fury: I want these motherfuckers off my motherfucking helicarrier.  
Goon: Sir, the motherfuckers want to negotiate.  
Fury: Son, we do not negotiate with terrorists.  
Goon: Sir, Thor is insisting that SHIELD return his lightning-sister to him. I think we may have started a war with Asgard.  
Fury: *facepalm*

Thor: Verily, return Lady Darcy to us forthwith and nothing further shall be spoken of this matter. It is a stain upon the honor of the shield bearers to so imprison an ally who has committed no wrong. Indeed, an ally who by her very nature should be protected by the standards of diplomacy heeded throughout the Nine Realms. I should not like to inform my father that Midgard is even more backward than previously feared.  
Tony: And you've been talking for twenty minutes, Point Break. I think he gets the point. You do get the point, don't you, Nick? Because Thor could probably keep going, right, Thor?  
Thor: Certainly, my friend. In fact…  
Fury: *facepalm*

Tony: Just out of curiosity, what do you want Lewis for? She's not a mutant. I checked.  
Fury: None of your business, Stark.  
Tony: Oh, I think you made it my business when you had one of your spies kidnap one of my most valued employees.  
Fury: Agent Romanoff is a member of the Avengers. She escorted a person of interest to us for questioning. No force was used. You don't have a leg to stand on, Stark.  
Tony: At least I have both eyes.  
Fury: *facepalm*

Fury: What's your angle, Stark? You had your own questions about the girl's motives. It's been less than a day and you're burning bridges over someone you know next to nothing about. SHIELD and the WSC will not look kindly on this. You've put the Avengers Initiative and Stark Industries in a bad position over a matter that could have been resolved in a less confrontational way.  
Tony: You took my stuff. I don't like it when people take my stuff.  
Fury: *facepalm*

Tony: You do realize that Stark Industries is paying for most of your tech, right? Currently I'm letting you use my designs free of charge. That can change. Then we get into the gear I personally create and supply to the Avengers, not to mention the amount of money donated to relief efforts. It adds up.  
Fury: What you fail to realize is that SHIELD is protecting the best interest of the world…  
Tony: Uh-uh-uh. Let me stop you there. Heard this speech before. Not any more impressed by it now. You want the Avengers, then you stop fucking with our people. That includes Lewis. You can keep Romanoff.  
Fury: Agent Romanoff's presence is non-negotiable.  
Tony: Better the devil you know? Yeah, sure. Let's go with that. Lewis?  
Fury: McCarthy?  
Goon: Sir, about that?  
Fury: What??  
Goon: Uh. That person? Isn't here anymore.  
Fury: Excuse me?  
Goon: Surveillance shows an unidentified individual entering her cell before teleporting with her. We're unable to determine the destination.  
Fury: *facepalm*

Fury: Find Lewis yourself, Stark. And get the fuck off my motherfucking helicarrier.  
Tony: Going, going. Bye!  
Fury: Inform me when their quinjet leaves.  
Goon: Sir?  
Fury: Are they gone yet?  
Goon: Yes, sir. But, uh…  
Fury: What??  
Goon: The, uh, Hulk? Didn't leave with the rest of them. And he's run out of planes. He seems to be going after the command center.  
Fury: *facepalm*


	7. All dizzy over a dame

He hadn't killed anyone. Yet.

Should it become necessary, James would not hesitate, but it was still a relief that he had not needed to. Killing was easy, too easy. He knew how to kill without feeling anything, knew that action intimately; feeling something when killing might break him.

Would do it for Darcy.

Both the killing and the breaking.

Might have to just to keep Barton from doing something stupid though. Bonehead all dizzy over a dame and not keeping his head in the game. James knew what that looked like. Barton hid it well enough, but ratting their girl out had him all wrong footed. He didn't blame Barton; orders were orders and James more than understood keeping the brass happy. Didn't think Darcy would blame Barton either any more than James blamed Steve for dropping him off the side of the train. They were coming to get her and that was the important bit.

That and making sure that it could never happen again.

Should Darcy be hurt, he would burn SHIELD to the ground. Might do it anyway. Being in the air was the only reason he hadn't; couldn't risk the carrier falling from the sky with Darcy still on it.

Blowing the place up would nicely resolve his feelings.

Ahead of him, Barton peered around the corner before motioning James forward. Last one before the cells. Their intel put Darcy here.

He didn't hear anyone ahead of them. They haven't left anyone conscious behind them. He wondered when the next ambush would come. The quiet prompted him that one was coming.

Then he saw the open hatch and a body lying in it. Someone else had been here first.

Neither man discarded caution, but they picked up the pace.

More bodies.

Dead ones by the look of it. He didn't stop to check; it was enough that the obvious damage signified that their opponents had been permanently disabled and that this was not a ruse. Someone had been thorough in disarming and disabling their opposition. The guy with the seeping gut wound would live. Probably.

James' enhanced hearing caught the faint sound of singing. A woman's voice.

Two more steps and he was certain. They'd found Darcy.

Another voice interrupted. This one male. Not Barton, who stiffened before creeping forward.

The noise came from an open doorway to one of the cells.

"I love that song!" came a cheerful exclamation.

"Wade!" Barton hissed.

James came up behind him just in time to see the red and black suited figure of Deadpool waving at them as he teleported out -- the dark spill of Darcy's hair the only part of her head visible, her bare legs like a taunt.

"Motherfucking cocksucker!" burst from Barton's mouth.

James empathized. Now was not the time though. He pushed past the archer into the cell. Careful examination revealed blood on the slab serving as a bunk. He dragged a finger through it.

Still wet. Darcy's blood. He registered that in a place inside him that held only calm deliberation. She'd been injured.

James looked contemplatively at the empty cell.

"What?" Barton asked warily. He obviously suspected James of planning something. His instincts served him well. The archer hadn't seen the blood yet though or he wouldn't have had to ask.

"She's gone. We're here."

"Yeah. And?"

"Fury's in command. He gave the order."

"Right…?"

Barnes turned and headed down the corridor. Barton jogged to catch up with him. "You're not thinking of doing something spectacularly stupid, are you?"

"Maybe. Maybe it's not stupid."

"Putting a bullet through Fury won't help anything. He's the man in charge, yeah, but someone else will take over. Probably someone worse."

"It'll make me feel better." He held out his hand to Barton, letting him see the blood on his fingers.

Barton was quiet for a moment. Then he looked contemplative. "Y'know, stupid things can be the funnest things. It's been a while since I got to blow stuff up."

Which, of course, was when Stark contacted them. "Yo. Snowflake, Meridia, time to bug out. Elvis has left the building."

Tapping his communicator, Barton replied, "We know. Deadpool took her."

"So time's a wastin'. Gotta fly," Stark said.

James looked like he was going to continue on his self-imposed mission for a second, then hesitated before turning in the direction of the flight deck.

"Changed your mind?" Barton asked.

"Can get him any time," James said gruffly. "Don't wanna miss our transport. Sooner we track down Darcy the better."

Barton nodded wisely. "Priorities."

Yeah. Priorities.


	8. Ready Player One

Deadpool here.

So, unlike the rest of these bozos, I've been listening in on the readers. And the story, natch. When Stark started giving orders, I heard 'Blah, blah, traitor, blah, blah, blah, Thor, blah, blah, blah, other traitor, blah, blah, blah, Deadpool do what you want. Okay, what I really heard was 'Deadpool, save the day!', but my therapist says I'm not supposed to listen to the voices. Shows what she knows.

So naturally I stepped up to the challenge, because that's just the kind of hero I am. I dived out onto the helicarrier and --

\-- then the world went into video game mode.

Bummer.

Don't get me wrong; video game mode rocks. But there's all these bullshit quests and the arrow on the HUD's map doesn't mesh well with three dimensional space. Not the kind of thing you want when you've got a mission. And the nameplates are completely redundant. "Hydra Goon", "Hydra Thug", "Hydra Agent", "SHIELD Patsy"… Who needs that kind of detail? A baddie is a baddie.

But!

Points for slashing, maiming, disabling and un-aliving opponents! Sweet combo scores!

And a princess at the end!

Now if only the soundtrack wasn't so lame. "Please don't kill me", "Hail Hydra", "Where one falls, two more shall rise", "You can't be in here", blah, blah, blah.

He'd levelled up twice and gone through three floors before the flunkies started ranking up. Goons and thugs turned into agents, agents turned into specialists and specialists turned into NPCs with names.

"Slightly more challenging!" he said, pulling out his katanas because maximum effort! Not that he *needed* it with this level of enemy, but it wasn't time to face the big boss yet, so really, he was doing it for the reason that any man did anything -- to get laid!

Erm. Ahem. Impress the lady.

"Here I come to save the day!" he yodeled.

From not too far away, a sweet alto started singing. "Mr. Trouble never hangs around when he hears this mighty sound…"

"Here I come to save the day!" Deadpool sang back, prancing happily forward. Three more bodies, a katana through an electronic lock and there!

"Princess Peach!" he declared.

The hospital gowned woman in the cell looked up from where she stretched out prone on a minimalist dungeon chic bed. She squinted at him, as if having difficulty focusing on him. "Mario?"

Wade bent over Darcy, running his hands carefully over her, assessing her for injuries. "Oh, isn't this amazing? It's my favorite part because -- you'll see, here's where she meets Prince Charming."

She smiled up at him, though it was filled with pain. "When you wish upon a star, your dreams come true."

"I love that song!" He scooped her up, having determined to his satisfaction that he could move her without injuring her further.

Darcy pressed her face against him, arms coming up to grab on with desperate strength.

He let her legs go so he could reach his teleporter, then spotted the B-team arriving. Deadpool waved merrily and pressed the button.

So long, suckers! You snooze, you lose!

New high score! Sweet!


	9. Andthentheyhadsexkthxbye

Darcy clung to her rescuer as they changed location. The alteration in surroundings combined with the shift in position from laying down to upright left her dizzy.

Not only that, but Wade was solid and real under her hands. She could feel strong muscles, surround herself in his breathing and the warmth of his touch. Skin would have been better, but this, this was good. The frantic clutching of her fingers slowed down as her desperation eased.

When she was sure she wouldn't puke, Darcy raised her head again. "Where are we?" she asked. She didn't recognize their surroundings. It could have been any rundown apartment in any big city. Something about the color of the walls screamed that the paint had been chosen specifically to cover stains from cigarette smoke and water damage. The décor consisted of college student chic -- furniture rescued from dumpsters and made out of odds and ends.

"My place, bee-yoo-tee-full. Well, one of my places. It's easy to have a lot of places when you don't have to care about travel time. Not that I teleport everywhere. I would if I could -- who wouldn't? But then you miss out on the little things, like all the traffic lights and the rabid squirrels."

"Maybe this is rude, but can we be sitting down now? I really want to be sitting down," Darcy said aimlessly.

The room whirled, or rather, Deadpool did, and seconds later, she was deposited on a surprisingly comfortable saggy monstrosity of a couch.

Alone. Which sucked.

"Dude. Come here."

"No can do, pretty lady." Wade disappeared from her line of sight. Darcy was still too discombobulated to try to do something advanced like follow him with her eyes. Instead, her hands flexed, trying to find something to grab onto, before failing and coming around herself to hold onto her sides.

"Why are you so far away?" Darcy whined. She didn't feel up to this shit. "Come back. I was enjoying the touching thing. I wanna be safe now. I really need to feel safe right now."

Rustling, the sound of water running, more rustling, one loud crash and a gunshot, followed by "My bad!", came in succession before Deadpool made a reappearance, carrying an armload of supplies, topped with a tray -- with drinks and cookies?

A box with a red cross on it spilled over one forearm and landed on the couch next to Darcy. Wade edged the tray onto the table next to the couch, then dumped the rest of the supplies on the floor. "Tea?"

Darcy would have frowned at him, but scrunching up her face seemed like a bad idea. Instead she gave him a bleary look. "What the fuck, dude?"

"Tea? It's a hot drink made by infusing the dried, crushed leaves of the tea plant in boiling water. Except that no water has been harmed in the course of making this tea and there aren't any leaves either. Just plain ol' Nestea powder in cold water. Straw?"

She squinted at his cheery mien as she took the tea and sipped at it. "Fine. But I want cuddles later. I got kidnapped and beaten up. I totally deserve cuddles."

A gloved hand held out two pills. "Nuh-uh. No cuddles until you're cleaned up and properly medicated. Or the AMA will have my license."

She took the pills and knocked them back gratefully before holding out her empty hand. "But cuddles afterward?"

He took it and shook it firmly. "Deal! Although usually the hot babes are trying to keep me from putting my hands on them, not vice versa."

While Darcy watched him, he retrieved a washcloth and, wetting it with a bottle from the first aid kit, then he leaned in close, carefully daubing at the blood on her face.

She shivered a little and scooted forward on the cushion, until her bare legs made contact with the leather of his uniform. The texture comforted her almost as much as the increase in temperature. Anchoring herself to him made her feel more real. Made it seem more likely that she actually had been rescued, that she really wasn't at SHIELD's mercy anymore.

Darcy kept her eyes on the cup of tea in her own hands, trying not to stare at Deadpool as he worked. Not looking at him helped her stay in control of the impulse to throw herself against him and start sobbing. Which would be bad. Because crying. And her nose. And acting like a girl. She was a self-rescuing princess, damn it!

A self-rescuing princess who was naked except for a flimsy paper gown.

Okay. So things weren't a-okay. Still. She had some control.

Darcy's hands trembled. She set the tea aside so she wouldn't spill it and make things worse.

"You know, broken noses are nothing," Wade told her. "In the old days, people used to introduce each other by breaking noses. That's where the tradition of the Eskimo kiss actually comes from. They're hardcore, those Inuits. Meet someone new, bang heads with them, broken nose, kiss it, make it all better, friends now!"

"Feels like someone tried to scrape my face off with the floor," Darcy admitted.

He set the bottle and cloth down, switching them for a tube of antiseptic. "It's skinned. It'll look and feel nasty for a while, but if you keep it damp, it'll heal fast. Broken nose is a cheap shot; feels worse than it is unless it is worse than it feels and then you're dead anyway, so no problem."

"I feel I should ask you why you're good at taking care of other people's booboos, but I get the feeling you're just going to say--"

"Boobies!"

"Yeah." Darcy giggled. "That."

He finished, capping the antiseptic and tucking it away, then took her chin in his hand. "All better. Now whaddaya say you 'n me get undressed and have a little bit of 'adult naptime' while you get over that concussion?"

"Adult naptime?"

"Belly-bumping? Batter dipping the corn dog? Doing the bouncy-bouncy?"

Darcy blinked, then tilted her head. Whoa. Dizzy spell. Sleep sounded like a good idea. And cuddling. "…hair stroking would be a bonus?" Darcy found herself saying. The way he held himself suddenly still told her that maybe he hadn't said what she thought he'd said. "Uh." She gave him a bright smile. "You aren't freaked out right now, are you? Please tell me you're not freaked out."

"You said yes? No one says yes. Oh! Concussion! You're not in your right mind. No wonder." He nodded knowingly. "Because, honey, lovebird, treasure of my heart, you don't want any of this hunk of decaying man meat. Trust me."

"Dude, when someone says 'trust me', everybody knows that's the last thing you want to do." Okay, bruised and battered Darcy not attractive. The beat-up housewife vibe kinda squicked her too. She really wished high adrenaline situations didn't come with the attendant injuries. But, still. Hormones. Damn those hormones. "You're here. You want me. You deserve me. I want you. I don't deserve you. Can I have you anyway?"

He giggled, high-pitched and off-balance. "*You* don't deserve *me*?" Wade let go of her, sitting back and tugging at his neck until the edges of his mask came out. Then he pulled it over his head. "See the full freakish abomination of my cancer-ravaged skin? Which one of us is the horror show now?"

Darcy licked her lips, which -- ow! Not a bright idea at the moment. She studied his face. It did take her off-guard, seeing him like this. He looked weird without his mask. Like a double image -- she had one idea of who he was and then here was this new guy and he was like a whole different person, a complete stranger really. Except for his eyes. They bore into her. Desperate, hard, wanting. She recognized those, even though she'd never seen them before. They belonged to the man she'd glimpsed inside the red-and-black clad jokester she'd met him at the tower.

"I'd kiss you, but that would hurt," Darcy whispered. She reached forward slowly, so as not to spook him -- she sensed that sudden movements or loud noises would send him fleeing from the room, possibly from the building entirely, which Darcy was all 'do not want' about.

He flinched as her hand settled on his jawline.

"Even Eskimo kisses would hurt," Darcy continued. "*Especially* Eskimo kisses." She fanned her fingers out, caressing his scarred cheek. "Wanna switch places? Then I can crawl into your lap and you can hold me. I'd like that."

"You are not real," Wade said hoarsely. "You are a hallucination. I'm actually puking my guts out behind a Taco Bell while simultaneously regenerating from a gunshot to the head."

"I'm real," she assured him. "And I want cuddles. I need cuddles stat, mister! Think you can give me some?"

He reached for her, gloved hands ghosting over her arms, cupping her shoulders before descending to her waist. "I'm dreaming," he told her solemnly. "When I wake up, I'm going to shoot myself in the head, because the only thing worse than having a shitty life is having dreams about how awesome things could be if only I wasn't me."

"I'm in too much pain for this to be a dream," she informed him.

Apparently her argument persuaded him, because he picked her up. It was obscene how easily he did so; his strength powerfully arousing to the part of her that deeply desired care and protection. With a quick movement, he had their positions reversed, so that he was seated, well-built shoulders resting against the back of the couch, Darcy straddling his lap, knees on either side of broad thighs.

She sighed, letting herself relax, flopping forward until her head rested in the curve of his neck. "So much better, dude. You have no idea."

A tentative hand began petting her shoulder. "Good? I have to tell you, I have no frame of reference for this situation. Aside from bad television. Although this kind of thing doesn't come up much on the Golden Girls. Not that Golden Girls is bad television -- far from it -- but television in general has really gone downhill in quality since Benny Hill went off the air."

"I know, right?" Darcy let herself have this for as long as she could, then sighed again as her nerves failed to relax. "I'm sorry. You don't want this," she fretted. "I'm-- I'm basically forcing you into this and you got me out of there so you deserve all good things and here I am, up in your face, and ew. Not only am I filthy, I've vomited sometime in the past hour, which--? So not attractive. So. I'm going to go now. Once I can make myself move. And… um." She paused then, because she didn't have a plan and she felt increasingly irrational. She had nowhere to go, no one to call. She couldn't even call Jane, because of the chance SHIELD would have some way in place to monitor phone calls. She had no clothes, no money -- and, oh yeah. No phone.

To her horror, she found her breath hitching, in a way that presaged tears.

Great. Now she was going to fucking cry. She already felt guilty for trying to trick the guy into comforting her -- her brain had to decide to throw tears into the mix just to make the situation worse. She hated even the idea of manipulating someone with tears. Tears were private; not meant for an audience.

"That's my line," Wade said quietly.

She drew in a quick breath, trying to control herself.

"The vomit thing. That's my line," he continued conversationally, as if the words meant nothing to him. "When I get too close to someone. When I start thinking they mean it when they wanna be with me. Because they don't. They aren't interested in fucking the undead. Who would be?"

Darcy met his eyes. He'd startled the tears away and all she could do was stare at him.

"So why are you different? What is wrong with you that you're holding onto me like you want this?" he gestured to himself.

That. That broke her. She gave him a cracked smile that felt like her face would fall apart into separate pieces. He had no idea. He thought it was about his appearance and it so very much wasn't. "Dude. So many things are wrong with me. You have no idea." She shook her head, laughing a little hysterically. "I hate sex. So much. It's always been terrible. But I'd probably have sex with a rhino right now if it meant that I'd get held afterward. Maybe even *Steve*, that's how much I'm gagging for it. And you're still turning me down."

He considered her levelly. His eyes were no longer hard, no longer pained. Instead they offered a sort of resigned compassion. An acceptance that things were all fucked up and the willingness to share pain that surpassed mere understanding.

Wade brought his free hand up to her face, then paused, frowning, before crossing his wrists behind Darcy and removing his gloves. He brought his bare hand back. Scarred fingers stroked her face before drawing her forward.

Gentle lips placed kisses on her forehead, moving down to her eyebrows, skirting her nose to her cheeks, before a hand tilted her neck up and that mouth moved to her neck.

He crooned into her ear, "Stay in my arms, Cinderella, maybe I'm that fellow, Prince Charming."

Darcy recognized that he was making a song reference, but didn't know the song. It didn't matter. "You saved me, you get to ride off on the white horse with me. That's the deal."

His hands fell to her hips. "Deal!"

****

An announcement from Deadpool:

And now, dear readers, there was no segue, because they went straight to the sex. No one had to go to the bathroom, no one insisted on eating the (slightly stale) Girl Scout cookies and no tea was spilled in the course of this story.

Because perfect sex happens, particularly between emotionally damaged people who have just had their faces smashed in and have concussions as well as serious insecurities about their appearances and sexual desirability.

Yeah. I'm not buying it either. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.


	10. Natasha Romanoff to the dark tower came

"Some nerve you have showing your face here, Romanoff."

Tony had let the turncoat get inside the tower for the sake of keeping the upcoming confrontation private. Otherwise he would have had her permanently banned from all Stark properties. Hell, he'd already had her banned -- Jarvis was currently surveilling her every move and the less anyone knew about the array of hidden weaponry the AI had at its disposal, the better. This was a one-off, a farewell as it were.

"Tony."

Her cool, one word reply drove him nuts. "That's what you're going with? My first name? After you abducted one of my people from my place of residence and turned her over to the executive staff of Auschwitz? You're going to have to give me something better than that. Because Hulk's still pissed off about having his pretty talky lady taken away and if I let any of the others in here, they're not going to be any happier with you."

"You don't understand -- none of you understand what you've done."

"What *we've* done?" Tony scoffed. "What *we've* done?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, we assaulted SHIELD, but you guys started it." Tony heard himself speaking and wanted to drown himself in scotch until the lameness went away. 'You guys started it.' Really.

"And who faces the consequences?" the redhead asked.

Tony stared at her. "You." She shook her head. "You totally do. You aren't getting out of this one." She waited. "This is some sort of guessing game, isn't it? You're trying to tell me SHIELD won't face consequences because of this? They will, trust me. I'll make sure of it." She shook her head again. "*Me*? You think I'm going to regret this? Because let me tell you--" She shook her head. Realization dawned. "*Darcy*? Look, we're the ones who *rescued* her. Or tried to. She's out of your hands and that's a victory. She's got to be better off away from SHIELD."

She smiled. It wasn't pretty or amused. It told him that she thought he was wrong.

Despite knowing that he had the upper hand here, Tony grew alarmed. "If you're planning on doing something to her, you should know she isn't here. We don't know where she is in fact, so you won't be getting to her through us." A technicality at best. Something that Barton and Barnes were handling, but the spy didn't need to know that.

"SHIELD made its attempt to head off disaster. Funny how your actions caused the one situation we didn't want to develop to occur."

He hated jousting with spooks when he didn't have all the data. It made him feel stupid. Clearly she thought she knew something he didn't. "If you wanted to avoid having the Avengers pissed off at you, then--"

Natasha gave him a smirk that told him he was way off base.

"Damn it. *What*? What nightmare scenario did you have in mind? For all that I don't trust that maniac, Darcy's probably safer with Deadpool right now than with anyone else. He'll take care of her, make sure she's safe. I mean, given their last tete-a-tete, sex is probably happening right now, which I don't want to picture, but--"

Now the redhead was nodding. Why was she nodding? What did he just say? Something about Deadpool…

"Why would SHIELD care about Wade Wilson? Yes, he's complete chaos in a batshit crazy package, but he's usually easily distracted and he doesn't care about ruling the world, so not the supervillain type. And he obviously likes Shortstack, so no worries there."

"This isn't the time or place to discuss the matter further."

"If not now, then when? If not here, then where? I'm not going anywhere near SHIELD."

"I'm sure you have something appropriate around here somewhere."

"I have something appropriate? What kind of appropriate?" He studied her face, but that was no help. Natasha gave things away only when she wanted to give things away. She was a super sneaky super spy. "Whips and chains are so last season. Sure, I have plenty of conference rooms, but none of them--" He trailed off in sudden realization. "Oh! You mean… no." He gave her a suspicious look. "You're trying to tell me that you--"

"Not here, Stark."

"Got it." His mind whirred frenetically. So many pieces falling into place. If she was willing to talk, but not in public… Okay, so she could be trying to kidnap or kill him, but he was betting that this was about something else. "Yeah. I've got somewhere appropriate. Let me get Bruce in on this. No, not Bruce. He's still Hulked out. Thor then."

Twenty minutes later, he, Thor and Natashlie were holed up in the secure communications room in the tower that he'd planned to never need. He was proud of Jarvis; Jarvis was his own creation, an entity in his own right and unhackable. Jarvis was all the security SI needed. But he got the feeling that Natasha wouldn't buy that and, frankly, in the current circumstances, neither did he.

"Okay. I've gone over the place, Jarvis has gone over the place, we're as secure as I can make us," Tony said. "Give us the scoop. Assuming this wasn't all a bluff, in which case, hello? God of Thunder."

"You fucked up."

"Thanks. Already got that. Not that I agree, but how exactly did we do worse than the big bad bullies taking away an innocent secretary for the security of the world?"

"The security of the world is debatable. The security of Darcy Lewis, however…"

Tony rolled his eyes. He wasn't in the mood for mealy mouthed speeches about the good one of the many or whatever else she was trying to sell. "Cut the crap, Romanoff. You know something."

"Protective custody is the answer you're looking for. Evidence had been uncovered that Lewis had a power that others would kill to obtain."

"Obviously," Tony drawled.

Natasha continued, unflappable. "The director presented Lewis with a choice between what would likely happen if she were to fall into enemy hands and working for SHIELD."

"She said no," Tony surmised.

She nodded. "And while she was being given time to rethink her options, the worst case scenario happened. Congratulations, Stark. You achieved exactly what we were trying to prevent."

"Still lost here. What's the worst case scenario you're talking about? What're you all so worried about? Double Dee might have powers, but whatever they are, they aren't world shaking. And, like I said, better her with Deadpool than with SHIELD."

"Does this perhaps pertain to Freya's Gift?" Thor asked, speaking for the first time. "If the Lady Darcy has chosen the son of Will as one of her warriors, then his healing could cause others to covet that power."

Natasha nodded. Tony's mouth dropped open as he turned on Thor. "Freya's what? Fray-yah who? What do you mean, 'one of her warriors'? And healing? What kind of healing are we talking about here?" He leered. "Sexual healing?"

Thor nodded solemnly. "Aye. Given the circumstances of her capture and rescue, Lady Darcy would be in need of comfort. A fine hero's reward."

"A fine. Hero's. Reward," Tony said tightly. "Oh, my sweet Jesus. Did I hear you right? If we'd saved Double Dee…"

"Have a care, Man of Iron," Thor warned. "To prove oneself worthy of Freya's gift is a high honor. Do not tarnish it with base implications."

Tony raised his hands. "Fine, fine. But can I get a clarification here? Freya's gift? Whatever that is. Is sexual healing? And *Wade Wilson* getting healed is SHIELD's worst nightmare? The guy who can literally heal from death already all by himself?"

Thor looked uncomfortable. "I should not discuss it further without Lady Darcy present. From my acquaintance with her, I do not believe she would approve of my revealing details she would consider personal even if they are common knowledge on Asgard."

"Common knowledge? So I could just ask Jarvis?"

"On Asgard, aye. I cannot speak for what Midgard may know; your legends are oft in error."

"Fine." He stuck a mental pin in that. Research later. Tony turned to Natasha. "Wade Wilson. Obviously I'm missing something. Spill."

"Deadpool suffers from incurable systemic cancer. That cancer continues even to this day and is highly visible, hence the full body suit. Speculation links it to his healing factor; abnormal cell growth being both a definition for cancer and for what happens when he heals. Should he be cured of that cancer, it has implications both for the healing of others and for the potential neutralization of mutant and mutate powers."

"Okay…" Tony frowned. "I get that. I mean, I don't *get* it -- it's not like she's your only option for healing or for removing powers -- but I can see why that might cause some concern. But from where I sit, all you have is speculation. You don't know if that's the cause of his issues. You don't even know that she can do anything like that. She hasn't healed anyone else that we know of. *She* just learned she had powers yesterday."

Natasha remained silent.

Tony paled. "Fuck. Who?"

"Barton. His broken nose healed and straightened itself after a kiss."

Tony hadn't noticed. He remembered Barton wandering around with a bandaid across his nose though and that the archer hadn't had it earlier today. It sounded plausible. "Huh. So what are we looking at? What's SHIELD afraid will happen? And how can we stop it?"

Natasha frowned. "Variables have changed. Originally the security risk Lewis presented was the greatest danger. Without an understanding of the potential consequences, she simply didn't have the background to understand the necessary precautions."

"Yeah. No." Tony rolled his eyes. "Pull the other one. I'd buy Shortstack trying to destroy the Avengers from within before I believe her blabbing about having superpowers."

"No? How do you feel about Lewis potentially being auctioned off to the highest bidder? There are a number of organizations that have use for someone who can heal their personnel quickly and cheaply."

"Yeah, okay. I get that..." Tony scoffed to himself. Obviously Romanoff was pulling on straws at this point.

"However, Director Fury would like to thank you and the rest of your team for inadvertently uncovering the infiltration of the helicarrier by Hydra."

"What??"


	11. Whose line is it anyway?

It was bizarre being intimate and up close with someone who absolutely had to make a wisecrack every thirty seconds. Bizarre, but oddly satisfying, especially since he couldn't take his eyes off of her, as though certain she would vanish if he stopped looking at her.

It had taken a half an hour of cuddling and increasingly heavier petting before her stomach had rumbled and she'd agreed to eat the cookies before having a bath. Slightly stale shortbread was not her fave, but she'd missed breakfast and cookies were as good as anything. She'd turned down Wade's offer to fetch food -- neither of them had suggested having something delivered -- on the grounds that she didn't want him that far away from her.

As it was, she'd nearly had a panic attack when he'd left her alone in the bathroom and had sat there shaking until he'd come back in with a t-shirt and sweats for her to wear. He'd seen her expression and been good enough to take a seat on the toilet and chat with her without needing to ask if she wanted him to.

Darcy appreciated his consideration. The little gestures said everything. The words? Words were superfluous.

He'd averted his eyes when she got out of the tub, but held up the towel for her nonetheless. She'd dried off, then taken his hand and led him to the bedroom. Despite the offered clothing, she hadn't bothered getting dressed. Darcy had other plans.

She had made up her mind before he'd put her down on the couch when they arrived in the apartment. She wasn't going to change it now.

He went along with her pliantly, only to hesitate at the edge of the bed.

"Dude, you got anything? Condoms, whatever?"

He reached into his belt and produced a fistful of brightly wrapped packages. "In several delicious fruit flavors!"

She took them, set all but one down on the carton/nightstand next to the bed and pushed on his chest. "You can say no at any time. No pressure. But I get the idea that if I left this up to you, it isn't gonna happen and I really need this to happen. Capische?"

He nodded dumbly. "Not that it happened here, because a lot of stuff happens that didn't actually happen, if you know what I mean, but the last time I was in this kind of situation, the girl of my dreams turned into a lifelong enemy after the deed and took selfies. And that's just the most recent damage."

Darcy stilled, pressing the condom back into his hand. "If you don't want this…" She hadn't considered that, not really. In her experience, guys always wanted sex. And she knew he was into her. That wasn't the problem. "I'm not gonna force you. I really want this and I think it'd be good for both of us. You can totally forget about this afterward if you want; I'm not asking for a commitment. Just… I just want to feel not so alone."

He licked the condom package and made a face before setting it aside. "Okay! Enough talk about feelings. All this talk about feelings makes me want to get my hair braided and talk about boys and I don't have any hair to braid."

He hadn't backed off. "Time to get touchy feely instead?" she guessed.

"Exactly."

His voice was bright and cheery and his words flippant. But his expression was not and his hands on her were all too gentle.

She swallowed. She hoped she wasn't reading things wrong. She was probably reading things wrong. If she was reading things wrong…

Darcy shook her head to dispel the negative thoughts, then, carefully meeting his eyes, dropped her towel and waited.

He opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking when all she did was look at him and wait for him to reject or accept her.

His eyes closed for a long moment. When he opened them, he looked resolved. He reached for her, drawing her close to him. He spoke as he touched her. "So many ways I'm not good enough for you." Sure hands shaping their way down her sides. "So many wicked things I want to do to you. So many terrible monsters stalking the darkness. And you picked me." Wonder in his voice. "You're beautiful, sexy, naked and completely insane. Marry me."

On the surface, his words sounded like a question, but from the way he said them she could tell that he didn't expect an answer, that the words were merely thoughts spilling out and incidental to his actions. Counterpoint, as it were.

Darcy let herself drown in the melody until he pulled her to him -- and the buckles and straps and pouches from his uniform and belt dug painfully into her skin, jarring her out of her reverie.

"Any chance we can lose this?" Darcy asked, plucking at the fabric of his uniform.

"Puking bad," he reminded her.

"Been there, done that. Pretty sure I want to do this without getting more marks. But…" She gave him a hopeful look. "We could turn the lights off and get under the covers if you want. If it makes you feel more comfortable."

"What's with you and stealing my lines? Are you sure I'm not going to have to pay you? Because usually money is involved in these kinds of situations and I'm not sure I have enough on me. Do you take traveler's checks?"

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Darcy said, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to get in bed. I promise not to peek."

"Run away, run away!"

"Don't even think about it!" she ordered, stepping away from him. "I've got boobs and I know how to use them."

"Curses."

She heard him moving about as she turned away to crawl into the bed. It didn't sound like he was leaving, so she went ahead and pulled the blankets back, making sure to leave him room. The lights went out as she laid down and she closed her eyes. She didn't care about his appearance. It might be shallow of her, but all she cared about right now was that he was male, he had saved her and he felt right. If she wanted eye candy, there was plenty of that elsewhere. Steve had been eye candy and look what good that had done her. No, give her someone who understood what it meant to *need* with every fiber of their being not just sex, but the connection it fostered and who was willing to give as much as they received. Wade was that person, she was certain of it.

And if it was just adrenaline speaking, well, she'd regretted stupider things than bad sex.

The bed dipped. "Honey, I'm home." He paused. "You having fourth thoughts? Because we're long past second."

"Dude, we haven't even gotten to first base yet. Chill." Darcy hesitated. "If I'm weirding you out or if there's something wrong with me, you don't have to do this."

Wade started moving again, the bed shifting as he swung his legs up and laid down. He rolled to his side and reached out to her, stroking her hair. She relaxed a little. "Oh, my sweet valentine, that is so not even the issue. You have no idea."

Darcy took that as permission and pressed back into him. Naked skin met hers and she let out a relieved breath. "So much better like this."

He made no further move and Darcy realized that she hadn't covered the two of them up yet. "Oh, yeah. The blankets. My bad."

She tugged them up and over her, then shuffled them backward, awkwardly spreading them over him as best she could without turning over. "Better?"

He scooted up behind her, a line of warmth in the darkness. "Darling dearest, things couldn't get better. Which is why I'm waiting for an anvil to drop from the sky. Or zombies. Zombies are always topical."

Things felt close, intimate, wrapped together in the space under the blankets.

"Romantic," she teased.

"You want romance?" he asked huskily, mouth over her ear. One hand came up to cup her breast, causing her to suck in her breath.

"I want you." Darcy let herself loll backward until his body cradled hers.

"Ooh. Pretty girl likey likey? Me gusto."

"Mmh." Darcy moaned, letting her legs slip open, enjoying the feeling of wetness hiding there. She thrilled at his appreciative words.

"What else do you like?" he crooned in her ear. His warm breath made her skin tingle pleasantly and she let her head fall back against him, giving him fuller access. "Mmm. You like the sound of my voice, lovely? That's a new one. I approve."

Darcy wanted to know what else he might approve of, but couldn't find the words to ask. Now that this was actually happening, it overwhelmed her. The moment felt right -- righter than any other sexual experience had ever been.

His hand trailed down from her breast to trace her stomach. "What is it you like most, hmm, pretty lady?" He trailed his fingers across her skin in a particularly clever way, causing her to gasp. "You like me touching you -- very flattering, *so* responsive -- but you dig your nails into my leg when I say something you like--"

Dimly, Darcy became aware that she was indeed clawing his thigh fairly hard. She forced herself to let go, letting her hand relax before trying to pull it away.

Wade kissed her temple. "That wasn't a complaint, honey pot. You go ahead and drill a hole to China if you want. Deadpool like."

"Don't wanna hurt you," Darcy managed, lost in sensation.

"This isn't the bad kind of pain, sweetheart. Quite the opposite. You go ahead and do whatever feels good."

That made her give him a stuttered laugh. "Dude. You're so much better than anything I could come up with. So much better. You have no idea. I'm not gonna do anything that might stop you."

"Never gonna give you up," he sang before pulling away so that his body no longer supported hers. As she sank into the bed on her back, he raised himself above her on his elbow. "There. I let you down. Rickrolling a specialty."

In the dark, she couldn't meet Wade's eyes to see if he was teasing her. She licked sore lips instead, hoping he would continue, afraid with every moment he wasn't touching her that he might not.

"Ssh," he said, "be a good little present and let me unwrap you."

Darcy giggled, subsiding into the support of the mattress.

"What else do you like, hmm?"

As he shifted over her for better purchase, she moaned at the feeling of his weight coming down on her and anchoring her to the bed. It felt so good to have him on her, skin to skin. His felt odd in some unspecified way that didn't really matter at that moment. She didn't have the will or the brainpower to analyze it; it seemed more important to enjoy the sensation than to dissect it.

"Feels good, doesn't it? Being between your thighs. Bet it tastes good too." He dipped his head and let his tongue run along the hollow of her throat. "Mmm. Zesty!"

Propped on his elbows, both hands were available to stroke, tease and touch, but he left them tangled in her hair instead. His mouth paid careful attention to her chest, nibbling on the smooth skin between her throat and her breasts.

She arched up against him, trying to get more contact, but succeeded only in frustrating herself further with the feel of her breasts scraping against the roughness of his skin.

He chuckled. "Yes, that's nice. Very nice. You want me to touch you. So needy. Perfect."

"How…" she tried to ask. How are you so good at this? But she couldn't form the words.

"How many times can we do this? As many as you like. How sexy am I? Too sexy by far. How into you am I? Not as deep as I'm going to be."

Darcy clutched at his head, trying to return his taunting mouth to her skin. "More. Please…"

"Delicious how you beg, sweetness," he told her, kissing the tops of her breasts, making her suck in her breath with anticipation. "But you don't have to say a word. Not if you don't want to. Everything you do speaks for you."

He still continued to ignore her aching nipples. That drew a protest from her where nothing else would. "'s not me, dude. Never been like this with anyone else."

"Even your words are gorgeous. So much. You don't even know. I'm gonna come even before I'm inside you, you know. But I won't stop, promise. I'm good to go as long as you need."

"Please. Please please please."

She heard amusement and masculine pleasure in his voice as he hmmed back at her. "Yes? Did you want this?" He kissed the swell of her right breast. "Or did you mean this?" He licked the nipple of the other.

Darcy sucked her breath in hard. "Oh! That! That."

Lips fastened onto the taut crest and suckled. She bucked against him, trying to get pressure between her legs where she wanted it the most.

He thrust lazily against her leg, before pulling his mouth away to nuzzle the other side. "Mon petit chou chou, such sweet little brussel sprouts."

"That should not be sexy," Darcy told him breathlessly.

"But it is, because you're a treasure, mein schatz." An agile tongue rolled over that nipple, leaving Darcy arching and aching for more.

Aching was a good way to describe sex with Wade. He made every part of her yearn for his touch, then yearn for more of it as he kissed, licked and nibbled his way down her stomach and between her legs. But it was his words that undid her. Had she called words superfluous? She'd been so wrong.

"Your thighs tremble when I touch you here."

"I like the way your hands flutter against my shoulders."

"What delightful sounds you make. Better than a ball pit of puppies."

Everything she did or said he commented on. All of it met with his approval, even if not all of it made sense. And everything Wade said turned her own like nothing ever had before. She didn't think it was the praise; she'd had numerous compliments before, mostly on her body, and they'd left her cold. This… this was different somehow.

Still… when he moved to crouch down and put his mouth between her legs, she stopped him. "No-- don't. You don't want to do that."

His head popped back up. "I don't?" he asked quizzically. "When did I tell myself that? It doesn't sound like the kind of thing I'd say to myself."

"It's--" she tugged at him, but he refused to move. "It's embarrassing. Guys don't like-- I don't…"

"But I wanna!" he whined. "I wanna eat you all up! Yum yum yummy yum yum."

"It's disgusting?" she said uncertainly. She'd gotten that impression before from previous lovers. "Hair and… stuff." She was going to spontaneously combust if she kept talking about this. She couldn't believe she *was* talking about it. God. She sounded so stupid. Parroting things she'd been told, that she'd halfway started to believe, even though that wasn't the real problem. She had trouble putting the real problem into words even. "I can't get off from it. I keep thinking about all the reasons why you wouldn't want to and it… I can't."

He didn't say anything for a long moment and Darcy thought she'd ruined things completely. She should have just gone along with it and pretended. Everything else had been different, why not that, too?

Then he surged upward, pulling her upward, arms wrapping around her in a comforting embrace.

"Oh, pretty lady," he murmured, "don't you know that's my line?"


	12. Darcy's virtual playlist

Darcy was infamous for her staunch defense of her iPod and her attachment to its playlists. But the most important playlists of all weren't on her iPod. They're in her head, for people. She might make them into playlists someday -- except they weren't even all songs that she likes or wants to hear over and over. They just have meaning to her.

She still owns almost all of the songs. But sometimes she doesn't know whether the song came first or the person.

 **Nick Fury:** _The Devil Went Down To Georgia_ \- Charlie Daniels Band  
Fury doesn't frankly deserve a song, but it's stuck in her head now. He's the devil, plain and simple. Offers that aren't offers. She suspects that the guy in the song got a worse bargain than it sounds like he did. She wonders why the devil wanted Johnny to have a golden fiddle and what it gained him.

 **Deadpool:** _Skin_ \- sixx a.m.  
The song breaks her heart almost as much as Wade does. She'd play it for him, but won't risk the chance he might think she's mocking him. It's a shame, because both he and the song are beautiful and they fit each other well.

 **Clint Barton:** _Rainbow_ \- Sia (My Little Pony theme)  
_The Gambler_ \- Kenny Rogers  
_Take Me To Church_ \- Hozier  
_I'm No Angel_ \- Allman Brothers

Clint is a conundrum. Overall, he fits the Allman Brothers best -- a sexy, country angel with a tarnished halo, not perfect, but not by any means evil or despicable. But… It's like Clint can't make up his mind who he is sometimes. He's all rainbows and pink and fairy tales and made up things, but he's also mystery and playing games and knowing when to give up. But -- and this is somehow even weirder to her -- he's also the guy who follows a harsh mistress who owns his heart. _Take Me To Church_ fits him because she knows he'd choose it for himself in a heartbeat and think that it's about sex and being badass, and yet… when she listens to the lyrics, what she hears is a story of him making the same sacrifice over and over again, believing that he deserves death for his crimes and slow dancing with it in the dark.

Take me to church  
I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies  
I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife  
Offer me that deathless death  
Good God, let me give you my life

 **Thor:** _MMMBop_ \- Hanson  
Darcy's flirted with several songs for Thor -- she really likes Imagine Dragons' Thunder, for example, and it mentions Thor's aegis, but… no. It's not him. _MMMBop_ , on the other hand, is. Relentlessly cheerful and energetic, popular as all get out -- and a plague. Darcy thinks the Avengers are hopelessly naïve about the plague part -- Thor is hiding a troll of unsuspected proportions -- but she's tasered him before; he knows the score.

 **Herself:** _Walking on Broken Glass_ \- Annie Lennox  
She isn't heartbroken. She hasn't been abandoned. Well, not *technically*. Her mother died. She never knew her father. Her grandparents… they were old. She couldn't get away from the foster family fast enough. Her boyfriends… none of them had exactly been the love of her life. She's *fine*.

It just doesn't *feel* like it.

 **Jane:** _Fight Song_ \- Rachel Platten  
_She Hates Me_ \- Puddle of Mudd

Darcy loves Jane. Endlessly. Jane is also a scourge upon her existence, a tiny tyrant with absolutely no limits to the high-handed imperiousness with which she reigns in terror. Of course, that's also what Darcy likes about her. Jane will battle anyone and anything in the name of Science! and has. Indomitable. That's Jane.

 **Bruce Banner:** _Desperado_ \- Clint Black  
Bruce is… odd. Not because of the Hulk. Darcy rather likes Hulk. They don't get to talk much and Bruce isn't real keen on it anyway. Desperado suits Bruce because he's out there all alone because he put himself there and hey, you idiot, get back here and let us love you already! Not that Darcy intends to do the loving -- Bruce has left better people than her behind him -- but God does he ever need someone to sit him down and make him realize that people really do like him.

 **Natasha Romanoff:** _Ironic_ \- Alanis Morrissette  
Darcy hates the song. And Alanis. Which is why it's perfect. Because the song explains everything about irony, but it's wrong. Much like Natasha.

 **Phil Coulson:** _Sixteen Tons_ \- Tennessee Ernie Ford  
Son of Coul is an asshole ninja wizard. Darcy respects him greatly; she's halfway convinced that Phil is a deity in disguise fucking with them all. But as long as he's owned by SHIELD, she can't trust him and thus the song, to remind her of that fact.

 **Tony Stark:** _Thunderstruck_ \- ACDC  
_Mr. Roboto_ \- Styx  
_Doll on a Music Box_ \- Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

Darcy doesn't buy _Thunderstruck_ as Tony's theme song. For one, it fits Thor soooo much better. For another, it's more Iron Man than Tony. And, no, they're not the same. Because, to Darcy, Tony is not one individual, but rather a set of masks, each one sadder than the one before it. _Thunderstruck_ is who he'd like to be and she's okay with letting him have that, but it isn't *Tony*, not to her.

 _Mr. Roboto_ , on the other hand, is uncomfortably honest if you actually investigate the lyrics. "I'm not a hero, I'm not a savior, forget what you know. I'm just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control." Then there's the 'Domo Arigato' thing. Darcy wishes people would tell Tony thank you more often. She can't stop them from seeing him as a caricature, but it would be nice if they would acknowledge his humanity. The guy virtually *bleeds* it. But this song is fine -- she could tease Tony about it if he found out she had it on a mental playlist with his name on it.

The third, though… It's the only song of her virtual playlist she hasn't downloaded. Partly for reasons -- it's old and from a kids' movie and it isn't like she's going to sing along with it -- but also partly because she never wants anyone to ask her why she has it. The third song is absolutely Tony, which is why she will never ever share it with him. Because…

What do you see  
You people gazing at me  
You see a doll on a music box  
That's wound by a key  
How can you tell  
I'm under a spell  
I'm waiting for love's first kiss  
You cannot see  
How much I long to be free

Yeah. That's more than Tony wants people to know about him. Doesn't stop her from wishing there was something as simple as a kiss she could do to help him.

 **James Barnes:** _Work Song_ \- Hozier  
James… 

My baby never fret none  
About what my hands and my body done  
If the lord don't forgive me  
I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me  
When I was kissing on my baby  
And she put her love down soft and sweet  
In the lowland plot I was free  
Heaven and hell were words to me

Someday Darcy will play the song for James. As a promise and as a benediction. But not now, because the song's also about a powerful desire to rest -- to be dead and buried and done with life. And that's James too. But if she can't kiss him while it's playing, then, well… it's still his song.

 **Steve Rogers:** _Roads Untraveled_ \- Linkin Park  
Yeah. Weep not. It's a beautiful song, deceptive in its simplicity and aching with the way the intricacy of its melody pulls her in. It reminds her of the end of the movie it's from, with the hero completing his epic cross country journey -- only to be arrested. To her it's about things that could have been legendary that inevitably went bad. To remind her that, while the lovely and desirable have consequences and come to bad ends, they still glitter.


	13. Taco Tuesday

"And then we ran out of lube and I had to improvise a substitute out of candles, Crisco and the last bits of that really ineffective name brand laxative. You know, the one that--"

Darcy couldn't be sure if she was still dreaming. That she'd been asleep, she knew for certain. Her dream had been unusually vivid. There'd been her and Deadpool and sex, then some trippy bits where she'd been part of his body and interfaced with it, but not in a controlling sort of Body Snatchers way so much as an antivirus, scanning his system, finding Trojans, quarantining them, then repairing the rest of a vast supercomputer that had banners up everywhere advertising Taco Tuesday but no actual Mexican food. It'd been bizarre, and definitely a dream.

And she thought she'd been waking up. But the conversation going on just over her head made no sense. She recognized Wade's voice, but who was he talking to? If he was talking to her, then she'd missed most of the story. And what was he talking about? Not their fun sexytimes; lubricant hadn't been an issue.

"Wassit?" she managed by way of coherently notifying him that she was awake and confused.

"Darcy! Precious!" Arms tightened around her.

"Air! Wade, I need air!"

He released her. Darcy flung an arm out, clawing at the blanket that had been covering the both of them. It gave way much as he had, allowing her to roll over and smile down at--

"What the fuck, dude?!" Darcy blurted out, putting as much distance between herself and the unfamiliar man next to her as she could and still remain upright. Yes, the guy was sculpted -- and kudos to central casting for a good looking baddie -- but he still wasn't the person she'd gone to bed with. "Who are you? Where's Wade?" She'd *heard* Wade. He was around here somewhere, right? "Wade!" She wrapped the sole blanket around her naked form, which pulled it away from the man also using it, revealing that her companion appeared to be nude as well.

"Excuse you?"

"Wade!" she called. "Get your ass in here! This isn't funny!" She didn't recognize the guy in bed with her. That scared Darcy. Who was he? What had happened now? Where was she?

"My ass *is* in here," her bed partner informed her. "At least it was when I felt myself up last. I could feel myself up again if you like."

He didn't, however, make a move toward her and while the bald hottie was unfamiliar, she recognized the room. So she was still in the same place. And he wasn't threatening her.

Her heartbeat calmed a little. Now that she thought about it, his voice sounded familiar, too.

Darcy let her hands unclench from the blanket and cautiously leaned forward, examining the man closely. There was something about his eyes…

"Wade?!"

"Is there an echo in here?" he asked, but he was smiling.

"What happened?" Darcy reached a shaking hand out to touch his flawless skin. "God, I thought something went wrong and you were tied up in the kitchen and some other guy had crawled into bed with me or something. But you're-- healed? This is weird, right?"

"You say weird, I say fortuitous. And you're all better too pretty lady." He nodded at her face. "Your nose is a veritable tower of Lebanon and your lips like unbruised rose petals once again."

Darcy's hand went to her face. He was right. Her nose no longer hurt, the skin returned to its usual luster and her lips felt unmarred by the imprint of her teeth against the helicarrier's deck. "Magical healing cock?" she guessed.

"The precious says what?"

"What? It could totally be a thing." She felt a little awkward now. Obviously magical healing cock was *not* the answer, but…

"Obviously it's your magical healing vayjayjay."

"Oh, obviously." She chewed on her now pristine lip. "…seriously?"

"SHIELDRa kidnapped you for a reason. They're colossal assholes, but they're hardly ever wrong about where they choose to take a dump. Plus it's the whole plot of the story."

"Okay, I'm going to take that as you agreeing with me," Darcy told him. "And raise you a what the fuck. This seems like the setup to a bad joke with a worse punchline. Something about sexual healing."

"Ooh, Marvin Gaye! I can't wait for you to operate!"

"Apparently I already did." Darcy poked him. "Huh. You feel real. Guess I'm not dreaming. Now what?"

"Round Two?" Wade asked hopefully. "Before *I* wake up?"

"Wait. Which one of us is asleep here?"

Wade rolled his eyes. "Me. Well, assuming this isn't just an extension of last night's extremely vivid hallucination. I'm still waiting for Allen Funt to turn up. While things like this do happen to me, they're inevitably followed by a rimshot as the universe uses me as its spittoon yet again. Usually a full load of blam to the face takes care of the symptoms, but it seemed rude to get blood on the sheets with a guest in the house."

"Dude, pretty sure this is really happening."

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh."

"Nuh-uh."

"Uh-huh times infinity." Darcy stuck her tongue out at him before sobering. "Is this a bad thing? I thought you already had a healing factor."

He snorted. "An uglification factor. This is not the same thing. This…" His face twisted. "It's not real. I want it to be, but I'm going to un-alive the fucker who's playing with me when I find them."

Darcy's brow quirked and she ran her hand over his arm. "Still feels real to me. What are you afraid of?"

"Getting what I want always goes wrong," Wade told her bluntly. "Better just to shoot myself in the head right now and get it over with."

"Get *what* over with?"

"*I DON'T KNOW*," he screamed. "Don't you get it? If I knew, then I'd have some control over it. Does this last until I get injured and then I revert back to my cancerous self? Am I normal now, no healing factor at all? Is this some kind of mind control illusion? If I knew which, then at least there'd be the illusion of control. As it is, the universe keeps dropping bits of cheese and I'm the dumb fuck mouse who keeps eating them even though every single one of them is poisoned. Because I can't die!"

Darcy's eyes were wide. "Calm down, okay?" His scream had rattled her, but his despair truly frightened her. She cast about frantically for something to say, only to hear her stupid mouth speak by itself, "I'm sorry! I didn't know you were lactose intolerant."

The injudicious remark hung in the air between them.

Darcy winced. "Sorry? I wanted to say something supportive, but I opened my mouth and that came out instead."

But rather than blow up at her, Wade just stared at her before bursting into loud laughter. "Bwahahaha!"

He slapped the bed, roaring with hysterical giggles. "Your face!"

She stuck her tongue out at him, because that's what you do when someone says something like that, but secretly, Darcy felt relieved. She hadn't meant to make Wade feel bad. She hated making people feel bad, but especially people she cared for and Wade was one of those. She wasn't sure when that had happened exactly, but it had.

"So what do we do now?" Darcy asked. She didn't want to be a downer; she'd already done enough of that for one day, but he was right about the illusion of control. She needed some in order to cope with the rampaging disaster her life had become. "I mean, I don't have any place to go and you… well, I guess we're waiting to see what happens? If my nose rebreaks itself, if jackbooted thugs are going to storm in…" Her mouth twisted. "I really don't like waiting for things to happen. Please tell me you have a plan."

"I have a plan! It's brilliant, fool-proof. Solves all our problems."

She smiled brightly at him, already feeling much better. "Great! What is it?"

"We have more sex and then -- *tacos*!"


	14. Finding Miss Darcy

Mission: Retrieve Darcy Lewis.  
Location: Unknown

Last known contact: Wade Wilson aka Deadpool

 

"Yeah, I know that lunatic. Happy not to have heard from him in weeks. He's got yer girl? Whaddaya need?"

"Intel primarily," Clint said. "Whereabouts, yadda yadda."

"Shit, Barton, you know him as well as I do. Ya need me to hold him still while you fill him full of arrows, I'm yer guy. Finding him? Whole different story. Usually it's the other way 'round; don't need to look for him -- ya can't get rid of him. 'd ask Chuck, but Wade's too screwy for him to get hold of mentally."

"I forgot about that. Damn."

"He still got the teleporter?"

"Yeah."

Logan snorted. "Then good luck. Yer gonna need it."

 

"Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, Father Jacob speaking."

"Cut the crap, Weasel. I'm looking for Deadpool."

"Haven't seen that psychopathic shitstain, praise the Lord and pass the ammunition."

"Fuck."

 

"What trouble are you bringing with you this time, Hawkeye?"

"Trouble? No trouble. Looking for someone."

Daredevil scoffed. "I'll be the judge of that. Who is it? Things have been quiet in the Kitchen. I'd like to keep them that way."

"Deadpool."

…

"What? What did I say? DD?"

 

"Don't you guys have someone up there who sees all and knows all?"

"Aye, my father can see all of the realms from Hliðskjálf and the ever vigilant Heimdall can hear the very grass growing."

"So you could ask one of them where to find Darcy."

"And indeed I have! She is safe in the company of the son of Will."

[…sound of teeth grinding together] "…Did you happen to ask *where*?"

"In the fine New city of York!"

"That's… not very helpful, Thor. New York is a big place. Does your father or the other guy know *where* in New York she is?"

"Of course! My friend… is something wrong with your mouth?"

"No, I always make that sound when I bite my tongue. Don't you think it would have been nice to inform us of this information earlier? Before we started looking-- never mind. So where is she?"

"Ah… She is fine?"

"Do you know where she is or not?"

"Nay, my friend, Heimdall assures me that is aware of her exact location."

"Which is?"

Thor pointed. "Two rôsts and seven faðmrs hence."

"…of course you don't have a street address."

 

"What are you doing in my neck of the woods, Hawkeye?"

"Looking for Deadpool. Heard from him lately?"

"Thankfully, no. Things have been quiet. What'd he do this time? Anything the Amazing Spider-Man can help you with?"

"Maybe. He saved someone. We're trying to find her, but I'm having trouble tracking him down. He got a place in this area that you know of? Somewhere you contact him at?"

"No, Pool just shows up. Can't get rid of him usually. You already tried Weasel's and Blind Al?"

"Last I heard Blind Al's in Jersey. We think he's in your area. Weasel hasn't seen him."

"Huh. Well, I guess you're out of luck then. I mean, if he isn't answering his phone, he's seriously incommunicado. You did try calling him, right? Ever since he got that 1-800 number, he always picks right up. Um, have your teeth always made that sound?"

 

"Wade Wilson here! The merc, the myth, the mouth, the magic! Available 24/7 for all your un-aliving needs. What can I do you for?"

"Wade, you unspeakable bastard."

"Fancy hearing your dulcet tones, oh Eye of the Hawk. I'm a bit busy right now…"

"How's Darcy?"

"Miss Lewis is H-O-T-T fine! She can't come to the phone right now, but you can leave a message at the sound of the beep. BEEP!"

 

Darcy returned from the bathroom and plopped down on the couch next to Wade. "Heard the phone ring. Everything okay?"

"Yeppers! Everything's just fine and dandy! Someone tried to leave a message, but all the receiver picked up was tooth grinding noises."

"Like a heavy breather? I thought those went the way of the dinosaur."

"…now that you mention it, he did kind of sound like a velociraptor. Sneaky devils! Learning how to use phones. Next thing you know they'll be putting on costumes and taking away jobs from honest, hard-working mercenaries!"

"How would a velociraptor even dial? Tony had to make a phone specifically for James so he could use the touchscreen with both hands. Do they even make push button phones anymore?"

"I know! It's discrimination, that's what it is. Does anybody even think about the reptile sapien population?"

"Actually… that's a good idea. I wonder why it hasn't come up before? What with the explosion of non-standard humans due to aliens and mutants and what not, shouldn't there be a bigger market for technology that can be operated by beings who don't fit the default human template?"

"Exactly!" Wade flipped channels again. "Ooh! Designing Women. Like the Golden Girls, but younger and less sexy."

"Wonder if anyone's figured out I was kidnapped yet? Or if they think I just wandered off."

Wade patted her hand. "You know what I always say: if you didn't dart it and inject it with a tracking chip while it was unconscious, then you probably didn't want it back in the first place."


	15. Paradise found

Now Darcy wasn't expecting much of her life After Abduction. She'd already had to revamp her life, what, at least three times just since leaving college? -- and each time, it had been scary and full of potential fail and each time, it had turned out even better than what had come before.

The law of averages, as well as Murphy, told her that this couldn't continue to be the case, but nonetheless, she's once again found herself with her life in shambles, all of her plans completely useless and nothing to do but start over.

So when James breaks into Wade's apartment, Darcy wasn't so much relieved to see him as surprised. Part of her had already begun planning what kind of posters to put up on the walls and which "furniture" to replace with slightly better actual furniture. (Maybe even IKEA if she was feeling upmarket enough.) She'd come to terms with life on the run and needing to depend on Wade and her previous friends being still friendly, but no longer, well, *relevant*, as it were.

Not consciously, not yet. But still.

Plus coming face to face with a mysterious armed figure in a hallway when you were absolutely certain you were alone? Pants wettingly terrifying. Even if you theoretically knew the person already. The brain just doesn't process information that fast. At least Darcy's didn't.

"Oh my fucking God," Darcy said, hand flying to her chest. She opened her mouth to scream, because hello? Armed intruder? Sonic attacks were totally allowable against armed intruders.

"Doll," the stranger said and like that, the world collapsed and reoriented itself around her. Because the Avengers hadn't come for her -- weren't coming for her -- maybe didn't even realize that SHIELD had taken her yet -- and yet…

"James??"

Long dark hair. Gun in hand. A looming presence of shadow and lethality. Safety. A shield of blood and bone, but one that protected against that which was not limited to flesh.

 

Intent dark eyes met hers. Darcy read relief in them as well as something fierce and hot and possessive.

"Darcy." He holstered his weapon then, bracing her with his left arm, began examining her with the other. He carefully palpated her nose before moving on to checking her pupils.

"I'm fine," she told him, trying to forestall a full body inspection. Not that having James' hands on her was a *bad* thing -- but, priorities. "What are you doing here?"

His right hand slid down to grasp her shoulder. Both hands flexed, as though he wanted to crush her to himself. "Looking for you, doll."

"For me?" She didn't know why that surprised her so much, except that you didn't send world-class assassins after no account interns. A bike messenger maybe. Coded text message, sure. But not the Winter Soldier. "But I'm fine. I mean, I wasn't fine and it would've been nice to be found then, but I was and everything's okay *now*…"

James didn't say a word, just let her mouth run itself down while looking at her like she was some kind of princess and they stood exposed in the center of a dragon's hoard.

"…And you didn't know that," she concluded. Darcy grimaced. Okay, yeah, this kinda looked bad from a certain perspective. It wasn't like she'd called and let anyone know she was safe, so how could he know? Sure, *reasons*, but.. when it got right down to it, saying it out loud made it sounda lot more like she hadn't expected him to care, which… yeah. Somewhere in the back of her head, it made sense -- she couldn't call them, because SHIELD could trace a phone call and it wasn't like the Avengers would assemble to find a lone intern, especially given that one of their own members was responsible for abducting her in the first place. They were complicit in her   
kidnapping; that made them part of who she was hiding from. And it wasn't like Jane didn't have Thor and his resources to tap if the astrophysicist got worried. Frankly, when Thor hadn't knocked the door down the first night, Darcy had half-figured that Jane at least knew she was okay.

And yet…

"No."

She sagged. "I'm sorry."

His silences said more than some people's speeches. He was here now and that was what mattered. He was hurt that she thought he wouldn't come for her, but he'd proven himself now.

James said all that without uttering a single word, just using his eyes and the pressure of his hands on her waist and shoulder.

She nodded. So. Trust. She could do that. "What's the plan?" Because of course he had a plan. Last week, she'd thought having a plan was edemic in the superhero/villain population, but that was before Wade. Speaking of which… "Wade should be back, well, um. Eventually?"

Sniper eyes sharpened. "Barton'll take care of him."

 

"Bar-- Clint will…" Darcy's eyes widened. James wasn't surprised by her mention of Wade. He knew who she meant. But he'd been stalking the halls of the apartment with a weapon in hand. "He's not going to shoot him, is he?"

James gave her a blank eyed expression, which Darcy interpreted as 'Duh'.

"You can't! No! We can't let him! That would be bad. He could kill him."

Another non-reaction. This one came across more as 'And? Your point?'

"You don't get it. Something happened! I did something, we did something and Wade's all normal now. If Clint kills him, he won't just get better. He'll die. You can't do that. He saved me."

She saw him assimilate that information and recalculate Wade's value in his head before he nodded.

James let go of her, reaching for his comm. "Hawkeye. Hands off on Deadpool. Friendly."

Darcy smiled widely. He believed her. That… That meant an awful lot. It felt like he was extending her his trust in return. Which was nonsense, of course. No words had been exchanged and she was only imagining his half of the dialogue…

 

…but then she'd had sex with Wade and cured the both of them. So. Freaky mind reading abilities? Or was she just simpatico with one James Buchanan Barnes?

He was still staring at her. Did it matter?

Darcy licked her lips. "What's the plan, sergeant? Because if you don't have one, I'm about to do something very very stupid."

His eyes flickered to her mouth, then away again. "Extraction. The tower's safe for now."

She didn't know whether to be disappointed. No. She knew. She was definitely disappointed. But, hey, at least there was a plan. "I don't have anything from here to take with me, so I'm good to go."

He nodded, and his left hand slid to the small of her back, directing her toward the front door. "Barton's sending Wilson up. He'll escort you out, then we'll shadow you back to the tower."

The light pressure on her back made her think of dancing. The image kept her distracted until they reached the front of the apartment, which was why she didn't ask about the teleporter. Honest.

The door banged open almost as soon as they reached it. "Honeybunch!" Wade announced. He thrust a bouquet of pink and white flowers at her. "Happy anniversary!"

 

Darcy gave him a WTF? eyebrow, but, flowers, so she held out her hands for them. "Aw, thanks, sweetie pie."

The flowers distracted her enough that she missed James' disappearance until after Wade had already twirled her in a full circle around the now empty room.

Gone already. She wondered if she'd missed James glaring at Wade and decided she probably had. That kind of thing was obligatory male behavior.

"So, uh, hey? I guess they were looking for me after all."

Wade let go of her and Darcy took a moment to appraise his latest costume.

He's worn a new outfit every time she's seen him since they'd slept together. For instance, he'd left the apartment in a French maid outfit. Now he's changed into clingy electric blue bicycle shorts topped by a form fitting black top that looked like it belonged on a surfer. Darcy looked down. Yup. Flip-flops. Wade was nothing if not committed to his themes.

Darcy opened her mouth to compliment him on his latest look -- the costumes were adorable and it was clear that Wade was reveling in the opportunity to give people a reason to stare at him and admire his looks --

\-- but Wade put his finger across her lips. "Of course they were looking for you, buttercup. Everyone's looking for you right now. You're a popular lady. Most people have to be nominated before getting this much attention from the academy."

 

"And you didn't say anything?"

He gave her a disbelieving look. "But sugar plum," he whined. "They all want to sleep with you and we're on our honeymoon. As your newly wedded groom, I deserve a chance to hunt them down and shoot them first."

Darcy giggled. So sue her. It was funny. "No killing James or Clint." After a second, she added, "Or Tony."

He cocked his head. "But everyone else is okay? This is surprising to me. Most of the time when people are telling me to stop un-aliving, they mean altogether."

"Well, Thor would probably think it was fun, even if he had interest in bedding me, which he doesn't. And Bruce…" Darcy grimaced. "Let's just say that, if you're determined to be that much of an idiot, our honeymoon was never going to last all that long anyway."

He still looked confused.

"Bruce smash," Darcy added helpfully.

"No, no, I got that. Me and Hulk are old pals. We go way back. I was more wondering about everybody else."

"Like Jane?"

"No, girl on girl is hot. Like Dr. Strange. Or Professor X. Or Von Doom."

"Creepy pornstache dude, manipulative hypocritically 'pacificistic' mind reader and a giant douche? Slice 'em, dice 'em and fry 'em," Darcy said flatly. "If it's assholes like that who are trying to get me away from you so they can get in my pants, then I'm more worried about you getting hurt than I am them."

She considered the flowers and sighed. "I don't think I can take these with me. If we're supposed to be going out the front to look normal, then it would be weird to bring the flowers back out with me, right?" Which, see? Proof. She didn't remember the teleporter. The teleporter part was totally not on Darcy.

"Oh!" Wade perked up. "Just a minute! Be right back!"

He disappeared into the hallway. Darcy presumed he needed to pack a bag. "Okay, dude, whatever!"

Should she put the flowers in water before they left? Or just toss them? Leave them in front of a random door as an offering to chaos? 

Before she could make up her mind, Deadpool had reappeared, this time wearing dark slacks, a button down shirt and tie, a long white lab coat and glasses. He wasn't, however, holding anything.

"I thought--" she started, then shook her head. "Never mind. I guess weird is the least of our problems."

"Got that right!" Wade said and took her hand, looping it over his arm. "Shall we?"


	16. Rumors and salutations

"Yeah, Barton wanted Deadpool for something. Right about the same time as that mess with SHIELD -- oh, he called you, too?"

"Wanted Chuck. Tol' him Chuck can't read Wade. Too crazy."

"Huh. Maybe that had something to do with the person Pool saved."

"Pull another one. Wade saved someone?"

"Hey! He tries to be a hero."

"And usually fails."

"Fine. What was the SHIELD mess about, Red?"

"The Avengers stormed the helicarrier, then left without whatever they came for, but whatever it was vanished from SHIELD at the same time. Something important to do with a new project. Seems they were setting up a new project to do with support for their agents rather than super agents. Valkyrie?"

"Information theft?"

"Unless you want to believe Deadpool rescued an actual busty Nordic goddess out of the goodness of his own heart."

…  
…

"Well, at least we know it couldn't have been for the sex."

"Prob'bly hit on her, got his clock cleaned an' she's somewhere lost in Manhattan."

"Beautiful busty Norse goddesses wandering lost in Manhattan. Sounds like a job for the Amazing Spider-Man!"

"…didn't you and Wade end up doing a stripdance for a hall full of busty Nordic goddesses once?"

"It wasn't me, you can't prove it was me and I destroyed all the negatives."

"Still. I'll keep an eye out."

"You do that, Red."

****

"Weather today in Manhattan -- cloudy with a chance of thunderstorms! Guess the God of Thunder is feeling a little out of sorts, eh, Tom? Haha. Back to you."

"Weather smeather. Missing Norse deities more like."

"What's that, Parker?" the office assistant asked.

"Er, nothing. Just speculating on what could have riled up Thor, heh?" Peter laughed nervously. "Probably lost some relative of his in downtown. Or something."

"Nah," chimed in the delivery guy who'd arrived with Jameson's lunch and who hadn't left yet -- if he was waiting for a tip, he was out of luck. "Not widda lightnin'. Godda save da lightnin' for when you really pissed off. Betcha he's not geddin' any."

Peter wrinkled his nose. "How does that even work? If anything, you'd think he'd save the thunder for sex."

"So dere's a sex goddess loose in downtown?" The delivery guy leered. "Day's geddin' brighter already."

"Men," the office assistant opined. "How're you planning to tell one woman apart from all the others? Even if there is a Goddess of Love -- and this is the first I ever heard of one -- she'd be incognito."

"Lady, she can wear anything she wants."

****

"Anything interesting happening I should know about?" Foggy asked his partner. "I don't want to walk into another alien invasion."

Matt chuckled. "Not likely. Some business about a missing girl. It shouldn't affect New York as a whole, even if the Avengers are battling it out with SHIELD."

"SHIELD?" Foggy sat upright. "You said SHIELD, right?"

"Yes, but it doesn't have anything to do with us. Even if SHIELD supposedly kidnapped a relative of Thor's and the Avengers fought them over her, it's not like Deadpool's going to come in here and file a lawsuit against them."

"Why would Deadpool…"

"Long story."

Foggy looked pointedly around the empty office. "Yeah. Those imaginary clients have me slammed too. Lay it on me. I've got nothing but time."

Matt sighed. "Fine. I don't know much, but I do know that Hawkeye is involved and interested in the girl. SHIELD apparently knew about her powers and kidnapped her from the tower. Some sort of healing power -- something strong enough to heal Deadpool. He took the girl from SHIELD."

Foggy whistled. "If I remember correctly, that'd have to be some powerful stuff. Wonder who else would be interested in something like that. Could be a big payday involved."

A grim smile. "The Deadpool angle is mostly speculation."

"But the beautiful woman part? That you're sure about?"

"I'm interested in more than beautiful women, Foggy."

"Coulda fooled me."


	17. The prestige

Clint was better prepared for the sight this time.

Of course, the first time, not being prepared was what had kept Deadpool from getting feathered with several pointy objects. They'd staked out the apartment building based on the information he'd gathered, but without confirmation, neither he nor James had known if Deadpool or Darcy were there or if it was even the right building.

So he'd missed his chance to fill that rat bastard Wade Wilson full of arrows.

Clint might be a little bitter about that.

Especially since he'd missed his chance not once, but twice.

Once when setting up because Wilson had left the building in plain sight and Clint *hadn't recognized him*. And twice when he'd been listening in on the comms and heard that Wade was not only healed, but shouldn't be shot.

"Just one little arrow…" he whined, fingering his bow.

"Negative," James told him.

"Aw, c'mon…" He watched as a lab coated blonde with a buzz cut escorted Darcy out of the building. Darcy held a bouquet of flowers in one hand and had the other looped in the blonde's right arm. She smiled broadly up at him. They made a beautiful couple.

Clint wanted to puke.

'I did something. We did something' had been Darcy's words. The 'I' implied that it involved her powers. The 'we', on the other hand…

He shouldn't be jealous. He wasn't jealous. He didn't have anything to be jealous of.

Just Deadpool bringing Darcy flowers not once, but twice now. Stealing Darcy from SHIELD. Hiding her from them. And… no.

He refused to think about what Thor had said about Darcy being in need of comfort after her ordeal or what the 'hero's reward' Thor referred to had likely consisted of. Darcy didn't belong to Clint.

Even if she *had* kissed him.

Even if -- and God he wished he'd noticed at the time -- he was the first person she'd healed, literally with that same kiss.

He scanned the surroundings again. Buildings, street, sky. Pedestrians, traffic, shrubbery. No threats.

Only one target to take his focus. One he wasn't allowed to shoot.

Damn it.

"You sure I can't dent him just a little?"

****

"I don't know if I'm looking forward to this," Darcy commented as she walked alongside Wade.

"Would looking backward help?" Wade asked. "I used to get carsick if I sat in the back unless I watched the world going away instead of coming at me."

"Probably not. Even if time travel were a thing, hindsight is only better if you're staring at muscled behinds and not might have beens."

"Represent." He fistbumped her with his free hand. "You don't have to go. It may be news to you, but as a designated member of the sanity free population, I am completely open to random adventures anywhere and anywhen. Except authentic French cuisine. I only consume genuine Canadian frogs."

"I always wanted to tour Europe. Be one of those disaffected beat poet types. 'Course, I also wanted to dance at high society balls and stay in youth hostels and those two goals aren't exactly compatible, so it stayed a dream." Darcy took a deep breath. "I'm a little nervous about going back to the tower. I mean, less nervous now that I know James is here and looking out for me and that Clint's somewhere around 'cause it means that they don't hate me after all. Not that I turned out to have evil mind control powers. As far as we know. I… I'm just… nervous."

"Because they didn't have your back and you still don't know if they'll have your back."

Well. When he put it that way. Yes? Except when she'd run into James, he'd sorta kinda made it clear that he *did* have her back. Just… she remembered the scene in the tower, facing down a room full of Avengers who'd all learned that she maybe had superpowers and not one of them willing to speak up for her.

"Yes. And no." She squeezed his arm. "At least I know they want me back. That's a plus, right? I should be happier about this. Not shit scared that the same thing's going to happen all over again."

"It won't."

He sounded certain. Darcy made a face. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I will terminate anyone or anything who tries," Wade told her, "…*but* you probably won't be reassured by that, so I'll also tell you the narrative truth, which is that nothing goes wrong the same way twice. Unless it would be funny."

"And if it's funny, that's okay?"

"No, but it's easier to shoot people when they're laughing. They let their guard down, you see."

"Ah, gotcha." She hummed absently to herself for a while, before commenting. "So I shouldn't make you laugh then?"

"My sense of humor has always been rivalled only by my stunning good looks."

"I'm gonna take that as a cry for help."

"'Help, help, I'm being oppressed!'" he said, then winked at her. "You can oppress me any time, baby girl."

"Ooh, can I?" she asked flirtatiously.

"But maybe just not right now," he added quickly. "Duck."

If not for the pressure of his arm motioning her down, Darcy would still have been looking for evidence of waterfowl. Or making quips about Donald. As it was, he had her backed into the side of a grey sedan, crouched next to it with him barricading her from the street with his body before she could respond coherently.

"Hand over the girl and no one has to get hurt," demanded someone she couldn't see.

"Sorry, no can do!" Wade said brightly. "See, you interrupted my date and that automatically calls for your immediate termination. I.e., in other words, a world of hurt."

A metallic slidey sound came from over her head and Darcy caught a glimpse of Wade suddenly holding two katanas, one in each hand. Where they'd come from, she had no idea.

"You don't want to do this," said goon number one.

"Ooh, wrong again. I so definitely want to do this," Wade assured him.

Before he could spring into action, however, large metallic legs clomped into view between Deadpool and his opponent.

"You will stop this immediately, Wade," said the new guy.

"Oh, it's you," Wade said. "Who else but a tin plated would be hero with delusions of adequacy would assume that I'm the bad guy here? And who's this Wade person anyway? Can't you see I'm a perfectly innocent bystander? I'm not even wearing red."

"It is not that I think you to be at fault, Wade. Merely that the situation does not require the use of deadly force."

Darcy risked a glance upward now that peaceful negotiation seemed to have taken over. Wade's body still blocked off most of her view, but she caught a better glimpse of the new guy. Dude looked like a giant silver robot.

"Great. Then resolve the situation like a good little hero and let me get on my way. Like I said, I'm on a date." Wade's grip on his katanas relaxed as he spoke. When the tin man turned to the goon, Wade made a showy gesture and the katanas once again disappeared.

"Some date," Darcy mumbled as he turned to her and helped her to her feet now that the silver tonic colossus was taking care of their assailant.

"I know, right? Flowers and a romantic stroll through the out of doors sounds so much better in the pages of Cosmopolitan. Dinner and a movie is where it's really at."

"Don't think we have time for that, what with our itinerary."

"There's always time for looooove, pudding."

The metal man returned and fell into step alongside them. "I will escort you to your destination so that you are not bothered by other undesirables."

"Buddy, there weren't any undesirables around until you showed up."

"What he said," Darcy chimed in. "Speaking of which, can we get a cab or something? I'm not up for a long hike."

"Professor Xavier would like to extend an invitation for you to visit--"

She was talking to Wade, but metal guy answered. Rude, much?

"Not talking to you, dude," Darcy said, cutting him off. "No offense, but I don't even know you." Professor Xavier sounded familiar though… Was this guy one of the X-Men? She flashed back on Wade's comments on people who wanted to sleep with her. Were the X-Men looking to add her to their boyband? "Never mind. Fuck that. All the offense taken. You haven't introduced yourself -- and that isn't an invitation! -- I don't know you from Adam and Wade obviously doesn't trust you. So there's no way I'm going to run away with you to fulfill whatever harem fantasy your creepy telepathic boss has in mind."

Wade backed her up without hesitation. "You go girl."

She turned to him again. "So about that cab?"

"We're heading for the rendezvous point right now, sweetums."

"You are dating Wade?" metal guy asked.

Darcy resolutely ignored him, but simply pretending he wasn't there was too easy. Instead she opted to add a little whine to her voice and ask Wade, "Are we there yet?"

"Just about. See that Doombot fighting with the Thing? You can just make out the rear of the cab to its left. The guy using the shuriken is standing on top of it."  
�"Is that what that is?" Darcy asked in a faint voice. She hadn't noticed any of that until he pointed it out. "What is this, Battle Royale?"

An exploding arrowhead took out the Doombot and swallowed Wade's reply.

James materialized by Darcy's right shoulder. "We've got company."

"You think?" Darcy asked incredulously.

"Got the Lizard on our tail with a couple of his guys."

"*More* bad guys?"

"Not just the bad guys we need to worry about, doll," James told her, before addressing Wade. "We can make the vehicle, but without knowing what resistance is waiting between here and the tower, it's risky. Other options?"

"Backup?"

"Fliers can make it in five." His tone made it clear that he didn't think they had five minutes to spare.

"This isn't just some random fight, is it?" Darcy asked in a small voice. Her companions exchanged glances, but didn't respond. "This is all because of me. You're in danger -- we're all in danger because they want me."

"Doll--"

How had things gone so bad in so little time? Just a week ago, the worst thing in her life was a little bad sex with her boyfriend. Now? A war was being fought over her. She hated to tell them, but she just wasn't that special. Magical vayjayjay aside.

"I don't want to be the reason you guys get hurt." Or dead, she added, but didn't say out loud, as if avoiding saying it could keep it from happening.

"I feel this is an inappropriate time for this discussion," Wade waggled his stubbled eyebrows at her. "The inappropriate part is definitely a turn-on, just so you know, but Death and I have a thing and if the woman I love is going to die, I'm going first. So I can introduce you. It's only polite."

"Okay. Morbid. But appropriate for the occasion, I suppose." Darcy swallowed hard, trying to keep herself from falling apart. "I really don't want anyone to die though."

The sudden appearance of the missing member of their party did not lower her heart rate.

"Gotta move, folks," Clint said as he dropped down behind them. "Can't stay here. Head for the car or fort up? The pawn shop'd be the best bet if we're going to make a stand."

"Pawn shop," James decided. "Split their focus--"

"Nuh uh uh!" Wade said. "Darcy, lovie bumpkins, big Hollywood finish! Lay a big juicy kiss on one of your gallant heroes while swooning into the arms of the other so I can save the day."

"What the fuck?" Clint asked. He wasn't looking at any of them, eyes focused on threats outside of their foursome. "No, don't--"

"Why not?" Darcy asked. Might as well. They were going to die anyway, right? She slung an arm around Clint's neck. "C'mere," she said, pulling him to her even as she backed up into James.

James fired over her shoulder, but stood stock still, supporting her. "Not the time, doll."

"Oh, it so is," Wade said. He held up his phone. "Smile for the camera!"

Darcy flipped him off even as Clint turned outraged eyes on him.

"So romantic! A real crowd pleaser! Two thumbs up!"

Then the sidewalk was empty. The four were gone, teleported out.

Which makes the resulting incident kinda Darcy's fault, seeing as she told Deadpool she didn't want anyone to die, but seeing as how none of the four had any idea of the other significant events also going wrong elsewhere…

But that's another story.


	18. Epilogue

In one version of this universe, Thor and Tony left the tower to provide air cover for Darcy's rescue. They did this because Wade made the decision to contact the Avengers about returning Darcy to them. Without Tony there to egg Jane on and without Thor's presence (and Mjolnir's), nothing happened when Wade teleported himself, Darcy, James and Clint into the middle of Jane's lab.

"Nothing happened" doesn't make for a very good story though.

Neither does avoiding one world-changing event keep the rest of the universe from ticking onward. I.e., time does not stop simply because it failed to implode.

Consequently, only one of the six people who collapsed together into a mass of heaving limbs on the floor of the laboratory had any idea of the potential disaster they escaped simply by not being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wade courts Death. Wade is not a fan of Fate.

"Mind getting off me?" Wade inquired politely. "You're crushing my trachea."

"I ain't crushing it," James told him. "You can still talk."

"Crush it!" Clint urged.

"Darcy!" Jane cried, wading into the pile and wrapping her arms around her reappeared friend. "How are you? Are you all right? I had no idea that anything was wrong until you didn't show up and why didn't you call me or Thor? I was so worried."

Darcy elbowed Clint, squirming until she could get her arms around Jane. "Jane! Best of pals! You really did miss me!"

"Of course I missed you! Why wouldn't I miss you?" Jane looked down and away, the move only highlighting the bags under her eyes. "Uh. Not that I've been busy. With science."

"Janey, I can practically smell the ketosis on your breath. You haven't eaten or slept since I left, have you?"

"Maybe?" Jane ventured. "But that's not important right now." 

The two women ignored the jockeying for position taking place between the men. Clint had a knee on the small of Wade's back while James ran his hands over the restrained blonde's body, searching for concealed weaponry and/or devices.

"Huh," Darcy replied. "You may have a point. But don't think that this gets you off the hook. You are eating and sleeping, missy, if I have to stand over you to get you to do it."

"Missed you so much."

Darcy hugged Jane close. "So much I want to talk to you about. But I've got idiots to sort out."

"You could let them sort themselves out and we could eat then take a nap in front of cartoons?" Jane suggested hopefully.

"Nah. They'd destroy the lab and then Jane smash. Can I trust you to go eat something on your own?"

Jane bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at her equipment. "Maybe?"

"Make that a definitely and I won't let anyone defile your stuff while you're gone."

"Fine." Jane detangled herself from the pile. "But only in the name of science."

"In the name of science," Darcy agreed solemnly.

When Jane left the room, Darcy turned her attention to the guys. Quite a pile of stuff had been confiscated from Deadpool -- she identified katanas, guns, knives and the teleporter amidst other paraphenalia. Now lying face up, Wade watched as James searched his lab coat, which apparently had quite the array of hidden pockets.

She scrubbed her hand across Wade's scalp. "You're being remarkably patient."

That got her attention from all three of them. Clint narrowed his eyes at her and James stopped what he was doing. Wade, however, just smiled at her. "It's all good. It's not every day I get felt up for free by smoking hot superheroes."

Clint pulled back from Deadpool's body. "Okay, ew."

Wade took the opportunity to stretch out, displaying well-formed muscles. "Feel free to keep going. You have my full and enthusiastic consent."

James moved away as well at that. Darcy giggled. "I think you're ruining it for them, babe."

"Nah, that would be your hand in my hair," Wade said. "The archer is about ready to wet his pants with jealousy, aren't you, Clinton?"

"Not much *hair*," Darcy said, because quipping back was on automatic and turning to look at Clint was an action she actually had to do something about. She did look though.

Clint was enough of an agent to try to hide his expression, but blank faced impertubability told its own tale.

She frowned at him. "You're jealous of Wade? Why…? You wouldn't *look* at me when you found out I might have some kind of superpowers. You didn't even come with Natasha when she hustled me off to SHIELD. I mean, not that it would have made things better, but…"

Clint's eyes shot to hers. "I had no idea that Nat did that! She didn't tell me or any of the rest of us what she had in mind."

"Oookay," Darcy said. So he *was* jealous? That didn't make sense… Except maybe in a weird fucked up male sort of way. There were no commitments between any of them; that she'd had sex with Wade should be irrelevant. "I guess that makes things a little better…"

"Before you ask," James volunteered, "she used a code word to knock me out." His mouth quirked in what would have been a grim smile, except for the complete bleakness of his eyes. "Don't know what other codes are buried in there. Or how to get them out. 'm not safe."

"James…" Wide-eyed, Darcy reached out for him, only to rebuffed when he pulled away. She pulled her hands back into her lap, rubbing them as though they stung.

"Darcy could probably fuck those out of your head," Wade suggested cheerfully.

"Yeah, I could--" Darcy started, because she'd do anything to help James, but then Wade finished his sentence. She scowled at him. "First of all, we don't know for sure that sex with me actually heals people -- you *are* the first, after all -- second, don't put it that way and third, that's offensive to James. He has issues."

"Uh, you definitely heal people," Clint offered. "You kissing me fixed my broken nose."

"Your nose was broken?" Darcy asked.

"Um, yeah." He ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't realize what happened until Nat and Thor gave us the down low."

"The down low? What down low?"

"On your power. How it works."

Darcy crossed her arms across her chest, a dangerous smile beginning to form on her face. Wade's comment had upset her, but now? Now she was getting righteously pissed. Clint knew about her power? And Thor? And *Natasha*? She didn't know which made her angrier -- that all three of them knew or that *Clint* had details on how her powers worked when she wasn't even completely sure what exactly it was she did. "Oh, really? That's interesting, since it's my power and I have no idea. Care to fill me in?"

Silence followed. An embarrassed silence.

Finally Darcy huffed and threw up her hands. "I *assume* that we now know that I can't control minds, because it's the only thing that explains why you're no longer mad at me having powers, *Clint*. And explains why your plan won't work for fixing James, *Wade*."

"The voices in my head are at least 65 percent less annoying," Wade contributed with a flash of white teeth. "It's worth a shot."

"Yeah, well, how about no? He hasn't asked and I'm not gonna make him feel like the only reason I'd have sex with him is to fix him. He isn't a fixer upper." Darcy didn't know why she felt so protective of James on the subject of sex, but she did. James oozed sex appeal and she would totally climb that tree, but even hint at asking him for it and she felt all mama bear protective over him.

Wade grinned broadly. "But I am!"

Not that Wade's self-esteem issues rested any easier in her gut. She nudged at him with her foot -- never violence, never to Wade. "You're not either."

"So Clint?"

Darcy rolled her eyes, about to deny that as well when an imp of the perverse bit her. She grinned back. "Okay, maybe Clint."

"Hey!"

The tone of outrage coming from Clint soothed something in Darcy, particularly in counterpoint with Wade's guffaws. Made the atmosphere a little less uncomfortable. Gave her the psychological space she needed. Something like that. She still wasn't over any of what had happened to her, but she could deal now that there was laughter in the room.

James snagged Clint by the back of his pants when he would have made a move. "They're teasing you, punk," James informed him. "'s a good thing. Means you've been forgiven for being an asshole."

Quick as anything, Clint turned on James. "What did I do? I'm not the one--"

James moved. Within seconds, he had Clint pinned down on his stomach. "All men are assholes. Learn that if you wanna get along with dames. 'Sides. Plenty of blame to go around for this mess. Yelling at each other ain't gonna help."

"Motherfu--"

That imprecation earned Clint a noogie.

"Guess I need to get with Thor to find out what I can do," Darcy mused as she tried to find a path forward. If she never saw the Russian redhead again, it would be too soon. "Hmm. Do I need to talk to the whole team to find out what my situation is or do I just go into hiding in Ulan Bator or something? 'Cause I get the feeling that nobody's going to let me just go back to being a science gopher."

James looked up. "Protect you here. And if that's what you want to do."

"Run off to Ulan Bator?" Darcy asked quizzically, because she'd been joking about that part.

"You wouldn't like Mongolia anyway," Wade chimed in. "Makes New York look like a vacation destination."

Darcy gave him a funny look. "New York *is* a vacation destination."

Without exchanging words, James and Clint engaged in a silent round of negotiation and compromise until James finally agreed to get off of Clint's back.

Clint sat back up gingerly. "Can we try that again?" he asked plaintively.

Darcy nodded cautiously. "Okay…"

"It sucked having you taken. It sucked even more finding out that you didn't trust us enough to contact us for help. But I'm glad you're back." He then seemed to hear what he was saying and backpedalled. "That you're safe, I mean. Not back as in back with us. Not that I -- we -- don't *want* you back, because we do…"

"Shut up while you're ahead, punk."

Clint gave Darcy an abashed look. "Yeah. Anyway. Stay?"

"You still want me to?" Darcy asked. She didn't know how to ask what she really wanted to know, whether she'd ruined things, whether he still wanted to try to see her as *Darcy*.

A guttural choking sound escaped James in protest. Darcy swiftly held up her hand. "I already know how you feel. Let Clint make up his own mind."

"And if he makes it up wrong, I can whisk the lovely lady off for a romantic weekend for two in Con Dao," Wade offered helpfully. "Much nicer than Mongolia."

"Ssh!" Darcy hushed him before looking expectantly at Clint.

Clint stared at her. Slowly, he repeated, "You said you want me to make up my own mind."

"Well, yeah. Duh."

"And if I want you to go?"

James grew more stoic, if that were even possible and Wade tensed. But Darcy just shrugged. Surfing the waves of this conversation left her emotionally wrung out. What little rest and peace she'd managed to build while in hiding with Wade already drained away. "I'd kinda sorta written off coming back here as an option after the SHIELD thing. When an Avenger turns you over to the agency in charge, you don't really need a pink slip to confirm that you've been kicked out. Seeing James surprised me." She threw James a warm smile by way of apology; she knew better now. "I didn't know who was in on it, who to trust or what to do to figure it out."

Clint glanced down at his hands. "Stay. Please."

"Okay," Darcy agreed simply.

A hand found its way into Clint's line of sight. Darcy's slim fingers took his and clasped his own tight. "I missed you. Both of you. All of you. I don't think it could have hurt so bad that you didn't come if I hadn't wanted you to so much."

"In all fairness," Wade said brightly, "I just barely beat them to it. Photo finish!"

James glowered at Wade.

Darcy's head snapped up. "What? Wait, what? You guys came for me?"

Clint squeezed her hand. "Of course we did."

"And you didn't tell me," Darcy addressed Wade. She wasn't sure what to believe; Wade's sincere desire for her presence and well-being or the hurt and conviction emanating from Clint and James.

"You didn't ask?"

"You knew I'd want to know."

"I knew you were a princess I'd rescued fair and square from the dragon and that eventually your kingdom would come calling for you. I knew that I'd gotten luckier than I had any right to be." He bared his teeth at them. "Well, my lady, your knights have returned, your reign is once again secure. I knew you'd only allow a poor Quixote his delusions so long. And, hey! I'm pretty now."

"Wade…" Darcy began.

"No," he said, sitting up for the first time. "Don't feel sorry for me. I don't get happy endings. Not getting kicked in the teeth counts as one of the better ones, especially with no more cancer. I mean, fate's a bitch, so it's going to come back or something worse will happen -- but I've come to enjoy this rather persistent hallucination. Doesn't mean it won't still suck when I inevitably wake up, but," he shrugged, "that's life. You date a bitch and she doesn't die, but your true love? Pfft, gone in the first five seconds of the sequel."

"Dude, that's messed up."

"I know!" He reached for the pile of his possessions, his manic tone reinforced by and made more disturbing via his wide grin and ebullient body language. "It's my specialty!"

Darcy wanted to hug all three men simultaneously. James hurt because she didn't trust him, Clint was falling apart and Wade… If she could hold them together with the power of her embrace, she would. But she couldn't. "Where are you're going?"

"Back to my fabulous life of crime, villainy and petty harassment of superheroes. Don't you worry though. Unlike these bozos, I'm an excellent stalker. Should anyone trouble a single hair on your pretty little head, I'll be right there at your side to remove their hands. Gratis! But I wouldn't say no to a kiss."

"You don't have to go."

"Oh, I do, I really do, oh queen of my heart. But never fret, like a bad smell, I always turn up again." Wade rearranged his possessions, taking a familiar device in hand. "As for you two losers, buy a clue already or I'll do it for you. So long, suckers!"

And with no fanfare whatsoever, Deadpool was gone.

With a sigh, Darcy sat back. She glanced at the other two. "Well. That happened."

"I'm not a bozo," Clint said.

Darcy and James exchanged looks.

"What?" Clint complained. "And stalker is in my job description. Stupid Wade."

"He'll be back when you need him," James commented.

"Causing trouble," Clint chimed in.

"More trouble than I'm in already?" Darcy asked wryly.

Clint winced. "Okay, so maybe not."

"Yeah." Darcy gave a pained smile. She needed to recharge. She needed safety and home and comfort. She felt hollow inside.

She'd felt poorly since encountered the metal man earlier, but now that Wade was gone… She couldn't take another moment being buffeted about by the needs and emotions present, both hers and theirs.

"So, it's been real. I'll let you two get to whatever it is you need to get done. Briefings, showers, reruns of the Muppet Show, whatever. I… I need a shower and my own clothes and then… I dunno. Find Thor? Threaten him with a tasing for not telling me about all this sooner -- not that he had time, I suppose." No -- no, stop, those were bad thoughts. She didn't need further dark emotions. But she couldn't help thinking about the events of the past few days. "Yeah, I guess he was absent at key points of the communications breakdown. So maybe I'll bake him some cookies instead. While hoping that whatever that clusterfuck was out on the streets doesn't invade here too."

"About that…"

Darcy's smile grew fixed. "Yeah?"

Clint started to say something, but faltered upon seeing her expression. "Be careful."

She stared at him for a moment longer, waiting for him to add something about not going anywhere alone or maybe an offer to keep her company, but he just looked away, obviously uncomfortable. Something was still wrong between them and she didn't know what. That sent a bolt of agony through her. She wanted to fix it. *Needed* to fix him, soothe his pain. 

But she wanted quiet and peace so badly. Needed to escape. She had nothing left. For a moment she hated herself for her weakness. Because the largest part of her believed that there was nothing wrong with her. She was fine. She was whole. She was safe. She was wanted. And there was someone in pain, someone who needed help, who deserved it. She was a coward, a selfish coward for not assuaging his wound.

But Darcy did know that she couldn't force it out of him.

She bared her teeth, trying to preserve the last little bit of selfish survival instinct left in her. She needed to get away. "Okay. Fine. Sure. I'll do that." Then she started levering herself to her feet, not looking at either of them.

She heard the sound of movement and her shoulders tensed, but she didn't look up. She couldn't handle another confrontation. If she didn't look, it wasn't real.

A second later, James' hand extended itself into her field of view, followed by his body as he crouched in front of her, waiting patiently to see if she would take it.

"I'll walk you to your room, doll," he volunteered.

Darcy was about to refuse; she was more than ready to be alone somewhere where she could lock all the doors behind her. As much as she craved uncomplicated affection, she didn't know that she could handle any further interaction with people.

But James ducked his head, and she caught a glimpse of pleading eyes. In them, she could read that this was something he needed to do and that he wanted to do, but would let it go if she refused.

"All right," she acquiesced. She was such a sucker for puppy dog eyes. As she accepted his hand, she felt a brief surge of energy.

The way his face lit up healed something within her. It was almost enough to make up for the near silent closing of the ceiling vent as Clint disappeared within.

Almost.


End file.
